<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873</id><updated>2011-11-13T20:31:52.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>meanpeoplesuck</title><subtitle type='html'>I am in a dress, I have gel in my hair, I haven't slept all night, I'm starved, and I'm armed! Don't mess with me! (miss congeniality)
lol, pretty much useless material written by a full time student at delta college with nothing better to do :)</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>69</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2153548797891184408</id><published>2011-11-13T19:51:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-13T20:31:52.211-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On My Way</title><content type='html'>It's that time of the year again, the business had a great summer and fall, though it's slowed down this past month, which was expected. There is no line for ice cream when it's only 40 degrees outside. But slow work time means more schoolwork time, and there is certainly no shortage in homework this time of year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just last week I received some wonderful news. With the completion of just one more class, I will have my Associates Degree. I cannot even express in words how happy this makes me, and just so you know, not one person in my immediate family has a college degree. Also, most of my extended family has never gotten a college degree either, so I am very happy. I have, of course, received some unkind words of those who have said, "it's just an Associates, who cares?" Well, I care. My family cares. My friends care. This is a big deal for my family and I. I'm not that bothered by them anyway, I'm pretty sure the person who said it cannot spell Associates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I set up my "college plan" last week. As much as I wanted to go away to a University, I can't afford it and my family can't afford my leaving the business so, Saginaw Valley State University it is. However, with the classes I've already taken, I will fit right in and be well on my way to my Bachelors Degree in Political Science and my minor in General Business. The business I can use and maybe take over the family restaurant or more, but it was the Political Science that really got me excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've noticed that lately when I say I'm going into Political Science people like to question me or give me a quizzical look. I think it's funny when they do that. I usually get the, "What? You want to get into this mess?" and my answer is, "Yes!" Yes I do want to get into it, see if I can't make a positive difference. The more I think about it now, I'm kicking myself for not getting into it sooner. I've been interested in Political Science and Government my whole life, why has it taken me this long to pursue it? Believe it or not, there was an incident that made me realize this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In early January 2011, Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was holding an event that allowed her constituents to voice their opinions to her, then from three feet away, she was shot in the head. I was distraught by this and though I had not heard of her, I learned about her. The more I read, the more I questioned why she had been shot. This woman worked all day every day for her district, state, and nation. She hated the rhetoric, and worked to pass bills by talking with Democrats and Republicans and she was one of the few that could get support from both. I do not agree with everything she stands for, but just learning about her and how someone should stand up for their people really stood out to me. Not to mention her incredible recovery. She sort of, inspired me to go for it. We need people who want to make a difference, who wants the best for their district, state and nation. We need people that will listen and get to work. Maybe someday I will be that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so happy I've been able to get this far that who knows how far I will keep going.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2153548797891184408?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2153548797891184408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-my-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2153548797891184408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2153548797891184408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-my-way.html' title='On My Way'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4995225582593559935</id><published>2011-08-29T12:47:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-29T14:13:34.039-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another beginning</title><content type='html'>I feel like I was just preparing myself for the busy season, and now it's over. I cannot believe how fast this summer went. September is only a few days away, and it's hard thinking back to May, June, and July.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot has happened this summer. Our business has picked up immensely, which is a good thing, especially with the economy like it is. I've had some good times, some great times, and some hard times. I've made friends, and I've lost some. I've laughed and cried. I'm grateful for the amount of time I was able to spend with my family, and look forward to the coming months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't end there, this summer I did a lot of thinking, a lot of reflecting and meditating and I came to the conclusion that I needed to change. I was not truly happy, and I don't know if I will ever reach a point in my life where I am truly and honestly happy, but I need to try, and it isn't easy. It was hard for me to admit things about myself to myself (if that makes sense). And I've heard a lot of people say things like, "I'm going to change, I'm going to be a better person" and that's fine, but it usually doesn't last more than a couple hours. I, on the other hand have gone 2 months and while it was really hard and frustrating at first, it gets easier, I'm liking it and have no intention of stopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I believe in, my morals, my core remains the same. So then what has changed you might ask - my actions. My thoughts. I'm more positive than before. I look for the good and go out of my way to do the right thing. I will bend over backwards for someone if they need it. I do not judge--everyone has their own story. I want people to feel good about themselves, so I compliment them. I ask how they are doing and want to know the answer. I Listen! Especially to those who disagree with me. If I can help someone, I do it without thinking about it. I look forward to school, and work. I look forward to sunshine or rain. I look forward. I live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You must be thinking I'm crazy. I did too at first. But I feel better and I feel healthier. However I do have my down days but they are not as often. It was a "down" day that had me want to change in the first place. I thought I had failed myself. I thought and thought for hours about myself and couldn't find anything I was good at. I found out that social work is not the work for me, child care is not the work for me, teaching is not the work for me. All this time I've been trying to be this person that those jobs require when that wasn't what I wanted to be. I failed at it. I passed the classes, I did the shadowing, but it's not for me. And I don't want to force myself to like it. What do I like? I do like helping people, and I do like working with people and doing work. I'm going into Business, I can identify with it and it may lead into PR and Government. I realized that you need a certain way about you to go into counseling/social work/child care. You need to be caring, but also have a sense of coldness, you can't let yourself get too involved with every case. I would be too emotional for those careers. I have an enormous amount of respect for counselors, social workers, care providers, teachers and professors. I didn't like admitting it to myself that I have spent all this time working on it and I can't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I tried. I tried, and I will keep trying until I find something that works for me. You wont know unless you try. (Except for sushi, I can't bring myself to try sushi lol).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am again, starting anew. I'm ready. Are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4995225582593559935?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4995225582593559935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/08/another-beginning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4995225582593559935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4995225582593559935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/08/another-beginning.html' title='Another beginning'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-6907205882688848512</id><published>2011-07-29T22:10:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-30T02:45:24.264-04:00</updated><title type='text'>So far.</title><content type='html'>Wow, what a summer it has been! I can't believe we are heading into August already. I'm happy to report that it seems our business has doubled. This has been one busy summer. I am, of course, working 7 days a week, but now I think we have it to the place where I can disappear for a few hours in the morning and early afternoon before I start my shift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been able to do much this summer. I did go to Mackinac Island for a day and a half with our good friends the Daverts. Fun but it ended too soon. That was my only getaway but I'm hoping I can get away for a few days before school starts up again. A lot of people like to tell me to "force a day off" or force some time off, but I guess it's really hard to get "Family Business" through some heads. I am there for my family, and sometimes I'm there for them too much. However, what others don't seem to understand is, the more "I"work, the less my parents have to. They worked their whole lives, and provided a great life for my siblings and I, the least I can do is work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, so far, I have a good routine going for myself before my shift starts at 3 p.m. I leave the house in the morning on foot or bike, (need the exercise). I have my bag on my back that holds a book of choice and beverage. I do a few miles or more on bike, or walking or running. Then I go find a peaceful spot in sun or shade where I read for a while. This has been working out very well for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The books I'm reading right now:&lt;br /&gt;"My Life With Jacqueline Kennedy" written by Mary barelli Gallagher&lt;br /&gt;"The Heartless Stone : A Journey Through the World of Diamonds, Deceit, and Desire" by Tom Zoellner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Books I plan on reading:&lt;br /&gt;"First Man: The Life of Neil A. Armstrong" by James R. Hansen&lt;br /&gt;"Lilies of the Field" by William Barrett&lt;br /&gt;"Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortenson&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've only seen a few new movies, Source Code, Unknown, Love and Other Drugs, No Strings Attached. With loads of movies in between that I've seen countless times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really going to try and wind down a bit before school starts up in the fall, I don't want to be in a frenzy...frenzy...that's a funny word.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-6907205882688848512?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6907205882688848512/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/07/so-far.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6907205882688848512'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6907205882688848512'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/07/so-far.html' title='So far.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8102816240567200784</id><published>2011-07-15T14:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-15T14:25:46.111-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Take a few minutes...</title><content type='html'>If you would be so kind, take a few minutes to read the blog written by a friend of mine about her family. I just went on vacation with this family and they are just great! I'm lucky to have such good family friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The blog is written by Missy Davert! Hi Missy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://davertfamilyblogs.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://davertfamilyblogs.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8102816240567200784?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8102816240567200784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/07/take-few-minutes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8102816240567200784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8102816240567200784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/07/take-few-minutes.html' title='Take a few minutes...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8410212118655970818</id><published>2011-05-26T01:02:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T02:00:52.895-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Work Together</title><content type='html'>I've had some time to myself recently, not a vacation or anything, instead I have been propped up in a chair for about 4 days due to a bad infection in my throat which has kept me from working. This gives me a lot of time to do nothing. Aside from sleeping, I watched the news all week. The pictures and videos of the devastation in the southern states due to the tornadoes is sad to watch. I can't even imagine. There is so much destruction. My thoughts and prayers are with all those who were affected by those tornadoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, aside from the tornado coverage, after watching the news for many hours a day, four days in a row, I noticed that there was only a handful of positive stories. And those stories were short and I realized watching the news is depressing. I watched CNN, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;HLN&lt;/span&gt;, Fox, and all the others. It seems as if nobody has anything good or uplifting to report. I watched as they talked about shootings and bombers, political fights, debt, unemployment, the war, upcoming elections, Kim &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kardashian&lt;/span&gt;, Lindsay &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Lohan&lt;/span&gt;, etc. and after four days I've heard only a handful of decent stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole world is not in turmoil right now and I think we need to hear positive stories. In fact I was talking to a customer last week who was ranting about the British Royal Wedding coverage in America. I wasn't one who stayed up for it or anything, but I didn't have a problem with it being covered, in fact I thought it was a good thing. I gave him my opinion which was, that it's okay if we watch and it's okay if some people want to set their alarms for 4 a.m. Why? Because this was uplifting. Enjoyable to watch. We are always hearing of political arguments and entertainment stars breaking the law, along with news from the war in the middle east and other bad news. I'm not saying the coverage on the war isn't important, I'm just saying that it wouldn't hurt to throw in a positive story more often.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it's important to take an interest in our own country, but our country isn't the only one. This is a rather small planet. We are not special nor do we have a special place in the universe. The universe is massive, too big for the human brain to fully understand. We are lucky to have this planet while we still have it. We need to come together. There is too much fighting, too much chaos and not enough peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting back is easy, going along with everyone else is easy, but standing up and coming together to bring peace to this world, that takes courage. It can be done and we should make an effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8410212118655970818?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8410212118655970818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/05/lets-work-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8410212118655970818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8410212118655970818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/05/lets-work-together.html' title='Let&apos;s Work Together'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4722656774166624713</id><published>2011-04-30T22:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T23:19:03.736-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Kid Again</title><content type='html'>When life gets so busy, it's important to take a step back, do something you haven't done in a long time. Do something you wouldn't normally do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I was going to be really busy today and instead of following the normal routine, I thought I'd change it up a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My nephew is here every day while my brother works his shift, so I asked if &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kameran&lt;/span&gt; (8 year old nephew) if he wanted to stay the night with me, since he loves sleeping over anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after work we built a fire together, roasted hot dogs, played outside. Then we made our way inside, let him take a shower and we had some good kid fun. We played &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;UNO&lt;/span&gt;, Watched &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Spongebob&lt;/span&gt;, built houses out of playing cards, then it was time for bed so we built a blanket fort (which was my favorite) and we watched &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Shrek&lt;/span&gt; while we sat under the blanket eating Nachos and ice cream. I forgot how much I like that movie. I had a really great night but more importantly, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Kameran&lt;/span&gt; had a great night. He's asleep now, and I'm watching the end of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Shrek&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't wear yourself out, step out of your comfort zone, break away from your routine, have some fun, be a kid again. It made me remember how great it was to be a kid and how much fun I had as a child. I can still have fun, a different kind of fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4722656774166624713?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4722656774166624713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/04/kid-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4722656774166624713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4722656774166624713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/04/kid-again.html' title='A Kid Again'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-9216455838708254461</id><published>2011-04-11T00:53:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-11T02:03:01.952-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And So It Begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Every new season brings about its own obstacles, and after today I think we're ready for what lies ahead. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The high today by the state park reached 81 degrees, making it the warmest day of the year so far. We thought we would be busier than usual and we were correct. We've been open all winter, but when the temperature gets above 50 we get really busy and for it to reach 80 was a surprise to all of us. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We knew we couldn't last much longer without bringing in the soft ice cream, so last Friday we got everything up and running for this weekend. Friday was busy, Saturday was busier, but we did not expect the business that the weather brought on Sunday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Sunday started off slow due to some stormy weather, but it picked up quick. My shift doesn't start until 2:30 so I had some time to relax before work and enjoy the sun. But when my shift did start, it started with people lined up out the door and food orders piling up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;First obstacle, Workers. we do not have any employees this time of year, only my immediate family, we were on our own today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Second obstacle, Space. We do not yet have the front doors/area open yet. All business is done inside the dining room. (Good thing nobody was claustrophobic). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Third obstacle, POWER! Just when you think everything is under control...it isn't. All afternoon our power was being shut off. It flickered all day making it very hard to keep everything going at a decent pace. There was a continuous line that we couldn't get rid of that ran through a full dining room. Thinking we were the cause of the power outage, we shut off appliances not in use, but this did us no good. Around 4:15 with a full dining room and a line of about 30-35 people, the power shut off and didn't immediately kick back on. We ran around shutting off the gas, fryers, grill, etc. the ventilation system was off, leaving me to remove everything from the grill in a hurry because smoke was filling up the restaurant. We opened the windows, doors, and did everything we could. Some people cooperated with us, others didn't. Not completely knowing what to do, we made an announcement (although it was quite obvious) that we had no power and some customers were not happy. We did the best we could with what we had, we served the hard ice cream all afternoon until it got too soft to scoop. But we could no longer cook food. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Fourth obstacle, Heat. We had no air conditioning or fans, just the wind. The temperature in the dining room stayed around 75 degrees but the kitchen and work area was around 95-105 degrees. Knowing there was nothing we could do about it, we pushed forward, selling as much ice cream as we could before it melted. Around 5:20 we had power again, but we had extra work to do. The line never went down and people never stopped pulling in. However, now we must wait for the grill, fryers, ice cream freezers, ice cream machines to get going again. The lines got longer, the orders stacking up. It was chaos with only 6 people running the place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I appreciate all the customers who cooperated with us today. So many understood and didn't mind the short wait, but there were those people that nobody can please. Some blamed us for the power outage, some were mad that we don't have generators running, some said we should have been prepared, hell I think some were mad just to be mad. However, we did our best and that got us through the weekend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We are grateful for the business we received and it looks like a promising season, and after this weekend, my family and I are ready. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;P.S. I do not yet know the reason we had no power but a lot of people in the Bay City area told us their power was on and off as well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-9216455838708254461?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/9216455838708254461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/04/and-so-it-begins.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/9216455838708254461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/9216455838708254461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/04/and-so-it-begins.html' title='And So It Begins'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7051921708732156380</id><published>2011-03-23T11:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T11:44:09.971-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day Blues</title><content type='html'>I must be the only student that WANTED school today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard of this snow storm last night but didn't think we were really going to get much, then I woke up to about 4 inches of white stuff outside. And seeing as how Delta never closes I thought I was still going to class, until I turned the news on. Then I saw it, at the bottom of the screen Delta College Closed. Figures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Normally I would be excited for a snow day but not so much this one. My speech class meets every Wednesday. This makes 3 weeks in a row that we have missed that class and we have a 9 minute speech due in a couple weeks that we have not went over. Two weeks ago was spring break, last week he cancelled due to illness, and this week is a snow day, we are really far behind!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I did get to go back to bed which was lovely. And, unless we get all the snow cleared, we are not going to open today...double bonus! I did almost all my homework, so this calls for a movie day...maybe this day will go by better than I thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7051921708732156380?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7051921708732156380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/03/snow-day-blues.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7051921708732156380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7051921708732156380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/03/snow-day-blues.html' title='Snow Day Blues'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5821539723149022028</id><published>2011-03-07T02:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T03:08:37.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Know What Time It Is?</title><content type='html'>SPRING BREAK TIME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep it's that time of year again! The much anticipated week off of school has begun! So what am I going to do if I don't have school? Well, in the last couple days I have already:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Worked&lt;br /&gt;Cleaned the house&lt;br /&gt;Did my laundry&lt;br /&gt;Sort clothes&lt;br /&gt;Watched 3 movies &lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;(Moulin Rouge) (Breakfast at Tiffany's) (Pretty Woman)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got drunk&lt;br /&gt;Baked&lt;br /&gt;Finished my homework&lt;br /&gt;Read a whole book&lt;br /&gt;(and my personal favorite) Took at least 3 naps!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all this since Friday, I can't wait to see what the rest of the week has in store for me. Granted the weather isn't exactly favorable, seeing as how there is new snow and ice on the ground, I will make this a good week. I'm so excited already!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now it's around 3 a.m. and my sister and I are watching The Princess Bride, (almost all of the movies I watch I have seen at least a hundred times). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I think I want some Nachos...yep I do...I'm goin down want me to grab you anything?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5821539723149022028?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5821539723149022028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/03/know-what-time-it-is.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5821539723149022028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5821539723149022028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/03/know-what-time-it-is.html' title='Know What Time It Is?'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7007929222519522275</id><published>2011-01-26T22:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T22:43:35.932-05:00</updated><title type='text'>we CAN do it!</title><content type='html'>"How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world." Anne Frank&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to do something. I want to change the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm no &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bono&lt;/span&gt;. And I don't have millions or billions to spend, but I can start small. People still appreciate the small things...right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7007929222519522275?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7007929222519522275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-can-do-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7007929222519522275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7007929222519522275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2011/01/we-can-do-it.html' title='we CAN do it!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1580146898280102248</id><published>2010-12-06T17:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-16T11:10:42.815-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is It The Technology?</title><content type='html'>I was talking with my niece the other day, she is 13 and lives with us. She mentioned how she was bored and couldn't think of anything to, so I told her to go outside...she laughed. It's like you have to force a kid to go outside these days. Then I started a story with "when I was a kid..." I thought it would be years before I would say that to someone. It was funny though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her, when I was a kid it was different. We weren't even allowed in the house, we had to be outside, and we liked it. We get home from school, change into play clothes and be outside till dinner or until it was dark. It didn't matter the weather. But now, it's get home from school and check Facebook, then play video games till it's time for bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the technology, I just think these newer generations and mine as well, are becoming too dependent on technology. People getting so bent out of shape when Facebook crashes, or when their Wii system doesn't work, or they cant get online to play games. Their heads are always down while texting, their thumbs moving faster than a fighter jet. I cant be excluded in this, I text, I have a Facebook, and if I don't have my iPod it's best you just get out of my way, but if you get caught up in that world, you are letting life pass you by. Texting all day with your head down, how can you see whats going on around you? I wont be one of those, there's so much to see, and I don't want to miss it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1580146898280102248?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1580146898280102248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/12/is-it-technology.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1580146898280102248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1580146898280102248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/12/is-it-technology.html' title='Is It The Technology?'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8102299452355183183</id><published>2010-10-28T12:10:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T12:16:21.915-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bring On The Schoolwork!!!</title><content type='html'>Alrighty ladies and gents...I  have registered for my winter semester classes! I'm actually very excited for this. I didn't get into my classes last semester due to wait lists and so I thought I would enjoy all the time off. Don't get me wrong all this time off is wonderful but jeez I could be doing so much more SO...no more skipping school, I will be right there at Delta come January with my backpack on, coffee in hand and ready to learn. Okay okay that might be pushing it a little, but I am happy to be going back to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out, I talked to a couple counselors about what I was going to school for and I told them to tell me what I needed to hear, not what they are being paid to tell me or anything like that. The news wasn't positive, but luckily, with the classes I have already taken, and the classes I plan on taking, I'm not too far off from another career possibility. I am now going to school for Child Care/Social work with children. I hope this works out for me. I have now changed my major 3 times. It went from Mortuary Science, to Teaching, now Social work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm Ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8102299452355183183?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8102299452355183183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/10/bring-on-schoolwork.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8102299452355183183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8102299452355183183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/10/bring-on-schoolwork.html' title='Bring On The Schoolwork!!!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3075703313935175880</id><published>2010-09-20T12:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T13:41:53.889-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting To Happy</title><content type='html'>I never thought I'd say this but, I miss school. This is the first time I didn't get into my classes because of waitlists and whatnot, and to tell you the truth I didn't fight my hardest to get into them classes. I actually thought if I didn't go to school that I would have more free time, what was I thinking? Now I'm working more than my fair share for no good reason. I'm NOT missing the winter semester.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that it's almost fall I was hoping to have more time off, I just want to be able to do stuff, go places. Even if I could go to some local or Michigan events I'd be happy. Speaking of happy, I'm reading a new book. It's called Getting to Happy written by Terry McMillan. I have read Waiting to Exhale and How Stella Got Her Groove Back, but this novel is a sequel to Waiting to Exhale. My cousin called me and told me that Terry McMillan was going to be in Dearborn and Detroit and we were going to meet her and go to one of her readings. I ended up not being able to go because my brother wouldn't work for me. My cousin still went, said that Terry McMillan was really cool to meet and talk to. Oh well, I'm over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I'm going to Mackinac at the end of the month. I'm staying at The Grand Hotel for 4 days, it's just a mini vacation that I'm really looking forward to. I'm very excited. And I got some good news about a different line of work that I'm interested in, and working all the time is great for that bank account, everything else seems to be going well. Maybe I'm Getting To Happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3075703313935175880?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3075703313935175880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/09/getting-to-happy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3075703313935175880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3075703313935175880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/09/getting-to-happy.html' title='Getting To Happy'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2954140139948206774</id><published>2010-08-23T13:21:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T13:26:33.414-04:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>You can't just decide to be Amish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't just wake up one day and decide that you want to be Amish, like its a profession. You are born into them, you don't join them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to mention she isn't even going full Amish, she's bending the rules...unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have nothing more to say about it, I think about it and I just start laughing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2954140139948206774?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2954140139948206774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2954140139948206774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2954140139948206774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7998841041659684671</id><published>2010-08-08T23:00:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-11T21:55:02.212-04:00</updated><title type='text'>All Different Types</title><content type='html'>After working here for so long, I am to the point where I don't really have to think about what I am doing before I do it, and I am able to notice what else is going on around me. I have realized that there are different "types" of people that come here, either to get food, ice cream or both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have just plain happy people. With this type, there is nothing that we can do wrong that will make them upset, they are considerate and cooperative. Always a pleasure to have around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the "leave me alone" type. These people are there to get their goods and GO, they don't want conversation, or chit-chat. They are not mean, but they just want to be on their way, (nothing wrong with that).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next are the talkers, these people talk our ears off about anything and everything. I bet some people would give me their Social Security Number if I just asked for it lol. I feel like I know too much about some people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are the carefree people. These people usually come in with their family and just let the kids run wild in the dining room and parking lot. The type that lets the kids write on the wall with pen, and draw on the window with chocolate ice cream (yes it has happened, and yes it happened more than once). Nothing really bothers these people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course we have the crabby type. I'll tell ya, some people come everyday, or 4 times a week and we can do nothing to make them happy. Just plain crabby every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This type I dislike the most it is the mean, unpleasant, rude people (A-holes). Some people I feel, come here looking for something to yell about, and always have to make rude and disrespectful comments, either at us, or to us. Just annoying. I don't question them, because they have been on a journey through life like we all have, but coming into my restaurant to chew me out because your ice cream is melting in 95 degree weather, when I'm working 12 hours a day, is uncalled for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The elderly. I love the elderly, well most of them. They are so nice to have around, so knowledgeable and cute. Of course we get a few cranky ones here and there but in all, they are pleasant. Most of them are like role models, it's like I look at them and try to imagine all they have been through, and they have still made it and are happy with life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there are the type that come in and sit for HOURS. These people sit and drink pots of coffee, while sorting their mail and doing their taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the "needy" people. These people make us wait on them hand and foot. Calling for us to top off their drink after only a few drinks. Not letting us get them all they want at once, they like us making 139 trips back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and I can't forget about the "Oh, we just made it" people. When we close at 8:30 and you come at 8:27, you didn't just make it, but we don't turn them away. So many people love walking in right at the last minute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my favorite, to us they are the "are you serious?" people. This type asks the most ridiculous questions, with the most obvious answers. They ask so many questions, want everything explained in detail, only to say never mind. Questions like, "how long is your foot long hot dog?" "what color is your orange ice cream?" "what does your grape slush taste like?" Us: "do you want a small or large?" Them: "Medium".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm sure there are more, but that sums it up. It always surprises me all the different types of people there are, but I do my best to make sure they feel special when they come in, whether I am having a bad day or not. There may be 100 different types of people, but they all have one thing in common, food/ice cream (okay maybe that's two things) :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7998841041659684671?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7998841041659684671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/08/all-different-types.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7998841041659684671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7998841041659684671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/08/all-different-types.html' title='All Different Types'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4530759491991005251</id><published>2010-07-29T01:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-29T01:31:46.798-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Outdoors All Day!</title><content type='html'>Well, I have logged 62 hours this week, wait...actually, I got Thursday (which is today) off, so really I worked 62 hours in only 6 days. I was only told a couple hours ago that I had the day off, so what am I going to do??? NOTHING! I am going to SLEEP, then spend the rest of the day outside, in the grass, bike riding, chillin at the State Park. Is it dumb that I don't want to go anywhere? I don't want to do any shopping, no banking, nothing but being outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some people think it's weird, but I don't. I'm inside all day long, in front of a grill and fryers, and if I get the chance, I like to step outside, so why not just spend my whole day outside. I even hope I get a sunburn lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm so excited right now, I plan on sleeping in till like 11, then who knows! The day is mine!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4530759491991005251?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4530759491991005251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/07/outdoors-all-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4530759491991005251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4530759491991005251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/07/outdoors-all-day.html' title='Outdoors All Day!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8105452680647989075</id><published>2010-06-27T16:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-27T16:23:49.088-04:00</updated><title type='text'>RAIN!</title><content type='html'>I LOVE rain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for so many reasons.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8105452680647989075?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8105452680647989075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/06/rain.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8105452680647989075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8105452680647989075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/06/rain.html' title='RAIN!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8754840321756983214</id><published>2010-06-21T13:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T13:48:03.403-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's all good!</title><content type='html'>I have had 2 days off in the same month! Can you believe it?! Not to mention they were both Saturdays!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend got married on June 5th. She knows that because of my crazy work schedule, there was no way I would be able to be in the wedding, but I did plan it, decorate it, and host it. I was not aware that the morning of the wedding I had to do the "running around" and "setting up" although I was happy to do what I could considering it was for her and that I couldn't do much else.  I left the house at 8 a.m. and went to the Dow Event Center where her reception was held. I helped to set up all the tables for 200 guests and all that, it took me and the mother of the bride about 4 hours, although we did have some help. Then it was off to Bay Valley to meet up with the bride, we were able to talk to her and get her situated. Okay, its 12:30, we are doing good..but wait, where is the florist? They were supposed to be there at 12:00! Where are the candles that were supposed to be there at 12:00? After playing phone tag, me and Michelle (mom of the bride) had to run to Kroger and buy some roses because the florist wouldn't make it to the church on time then the reception...unbelievable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, we have the roses! Now we have to go across Saginaw to Amanda's (bride) house to pick up the candles for the reception, all 150 of them. Okay, now it's 1:00, ceremony is at 2:00, time to go to the church and finally get dressed even though with all the running around we needed a shower but there was no time. Amanda calls...WHERE IS THE WEDDING DRESS? We thought she had it, she thought her brother had it! UH OH...more running and panicking, went back to her house, checked all the cars, turns out, it was in the trunk of the car the whole time. It's 1:30 we are getting her dress on her, I'm not dressed yet, neither is Michelle.  Okay, we have everybody and everything, guests are showing up we thought we were good, then the Reverend asks, "where is the Unity candle?" Our jaws dropped. We were told by the Groom himself that he had it, but where is it? In his car...at his house...on the other side of town...ceremony starts in 20 minutes. Saginaw traffic on Saturday was unbelievable, they made it to his house and back, while my job was to keep the bride happy. Okay, its 1:55, we have the candle, bride and groom are dressed and ready, time for the ceremony, and time for me to finally sit! After the ceremony and pictures it was back over to the Dow, it was beautiful. We were running a little late but everything ran smoothly, the band was there, the food was ready, and everyone had a great time. We did it, we pulled it off! What a great feeling it was! Although I had to work in like 6 hours. I had a great time and the newlyweds couldn't have been happier, which was amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I get told that I was allowed to go down to Monroe for my cousins grad party on Saturday. I was so excited as were my family. Before the wedding, my other day off was Easter...NO LIE! I needed a break. We went to the grad party and had a blast. We came back and I went to some club with some friends...that was interesting, the song lyrics to Rihanna's Don't Stop the Music was basically how that went down. &lt;a href="http://www.elyrics.net/read/r/rihanna-lyrics/don_t-stop-the-music-lyrics.html"&gt;http://www.elyrics.net/read/r/rihanna-lyrics/don_t-stop-the-music-lyrics.html&lt;/a&gt; not much more to be said about that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been fun, well, those 2 days anyway, but it's back to work. We are still training people, and working hard all day every day. My next fun day will be July 3rd, the day of the big fireworks, my whole family is coming up and we are closing super early, like 3 so we can spend the day with them. I'm so excited! And we will have a waitress next week and 3 new workers and there is talk that I might get more time off than 2 days a month YESSS!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8754840321756983214?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8754840321756983214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-all-good.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8754840321756983214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8754840321756983214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/06/its-all-good.html' title='It&apos;s all good!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-6616769373163810289</id><published>2010-05-16T23:39:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-17T00:07:41.406-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Work is so much fun...nah not really</title><content type='html'>It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it. This is what I have been telling myself these last 2 weeks. Man oh man! Crazy stuff down here at the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are "training" the new workers, it's such a hassle. It's so hard because this stuff is so second nature to me, I can do it with my eyes closed but they can't figure it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We (my family and I) were taken by surprise this spring/early summer with the amount of customers. Our business has more than doubled which is great! But, we never thought it would pick up this fast therefore we have lack of help which means more money...I mean...more hours for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's really interesting to me how this is a "family business" and yet certain family members like to as little as possible, it's really annoying actually, now that we are this busy all the time. We all need to step up and do the work. I try to do so much so my parents don't have to work as hard, I just wish that someone would step up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What can I say? The business is good, my feet, back, head and sanity aren't, but that's okay. I just need to get out. I haven't done anything since school finished. My best friends &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bachelorette&lt;/span&gt; party is in a couple weeks, that should be fun. My birthday is in a couple weeks, not that it's a big deal...the Friday of Memorial Weekend...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;HAHAHA&lt;/span&gt; there's no way I could go out. Until then, I'll be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;flippin&lt;/span&gt; burgers and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;scoopin&lt;/span&gt; ice cream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-6616769373163810289?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6616769373163810289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/05/update-on-beach.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6616769373163810289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6616769373163810289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/05/update-on-beach.html' title='Work is so much fun...nah not really'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4984172119946542371</id><published>2010-04-30T00:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T00:46:18.350-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Phew!</title><content type='html'>And just like that the semester is over. I will not be taking Spring/Summer classes therefore, no school till Fall, and that makes me very happy. It's been like 8 months of school or something like that, we need a break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hoping that this week would be a little easier seeing as how I had worked so hard last week to try and get everything done, but I was crazy busy right up until my last class. OH! Not to mention I had the whole "last day" planned out but sometimes I seriously question my thought process. I sold back my books today........before I was finished with them!  Clearly I don't think things completely through. I still had an essay and an online quiz to complete before midnight. Well let's just say it's a good thing my grade don't rest on that final quiz score lol. Other than that, I passed all my classes! YESSS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now what? work, sleep, work, work, walk, eat, work, sleep that's about it, but I'll take it! I really want a day to just calm down, I've been on such a high for 3 weeks finishing everything that I just want "me" time. I doubt it will happen, but I can dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4984172119946542371?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4984172119946542371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/phew.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4984172119946542371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4984172119946542371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/phew.html' title='Phew!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4439078590543916291</id><published>2010-04-21T23:34:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T13:16:08.878-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Final Push</title><content type='html'>It's about that time again, the end of the semester, one week left to go and I'm giving myself that final push to just keep going. It's really hard to stay focused and motivated when I know there is only a week left of school. However, this time I'm really sticking to my guns. Despite the loooooonnnngggg hours, I am actually AHEAD of myself. Out of my four final papers, I only have one to go! This makes me very excited but anxious at the same time. It's like, I already did the others, now I can wait to do this one, but I can't, I have to finish this paper too. I do wish I would have done this one first, seeing as how it is the hardest, but I have a feeling I'll pull through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest of this week and next week will be tough. Since Sunday I have only gotten around 15 hours of sleep. I have completed so much homework and final papers this week, but at the same time, I'm barely awake in class. I usually go to bed around 3 and I have class at 8:30. Do I need to stay up this late - no, but I like to get the work done ahead of time, even if that means looking like a zombie at school. The first class is always the hardest and tomorrow we learn about groundwater...how is that going to keep me awake? If anything it will probably make me have to go to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aside from that last paper, I am almost completely done with school work, so maybe I can get in an extra hour of zzzzzz's tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4439078590543916291?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4439078590543916291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/final-push.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4439078590543916291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4439078590543916291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/final-push.html' title='The Final Push'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4181378604321701531</id><published>2010-04-02T18:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T18:44:51.353-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Controlled Burn...more controlled than last year.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was time again for the once a year controlled burn at the state park. It is always fun to watch, it's more fun to watch the people who aren't aware of it and start freaking out lol. I always wondered about the controlled burn, why do they do it, what's the point? Turns out, it is actually healthy for the ground. Fire is a natural thing and fire actually stimulates germination of some seeds and such. Ah, now I see why they do it. They always do it around this time of year, when it is cooler than summer so the flames don't take control, but it got pretty warm here yesterday, I don't think they were expecting that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyXuZGLbI/AAAAAAAAAGw/eO65uSx0IT0/s1600/100_0495.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455673750521785778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyXuZGLbI/AAAAAAAAAGw/eO65uSx0IT0/s320/100_0495.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7Zyylb3HFI/AAAAAAAAAHA/jXFcfxgA74o/s1600/100_0503.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455674211973930066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7Zyylb3HFI/AAAAAAAAAHA/jXFcfxgA74o/s320/100_0503.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyiTva3jI/AAAAAAAAAG4/IcXxXnMXGSE/s1600/100_0500.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455673932346220082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyiTva3jI/AAAAAAAAAG4/IcXxXnMXGSE/s320/100_0500.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Last year, they had scheduled the burn on a dry day like usual, but a different fire crew came and wasn't as prepared as the team before. Last year, the flames got out of control and burned the fence down, and they caught a whole lot of trees on fire, this was not good and the crew that was in charge actually got in trouble for lighting too big of an area and not watching it carefully enough. Well this year, they haven't built a new fence yet so there wasn't a fence to burn down. Looks like they did a good job. Now we get to deal with the questions like, "Oh my goodness, was there a fire across the street?" No lady....really? What do you think. We explain how it is controlled so they don't freak out. One of these times I should tell someone that it did catch fire lol.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyiTva3jI/AAAAAAAAAG4/IcXxXnMXGSE/s1600/100_0500.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4181378604321701531?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4181378604321701531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/controlled-burnmore-controlled-than.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4181378604321701531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4181378604321701531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/04/controlled-burnmore-controlled-than.html' title='Controlled Burn...more controlled than last year.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S7ZyXuZGLbI/AAAAAAAAAGw/eO65uSx0IT0/s72-c/100_0495.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5981980438351501995</id><published>2010-03-31T20:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T00:17:29.516-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Great.</title><content type='html'>I have lost the hearing in my right ear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doctor says she's almost positive it's temporary....I don't like the word almost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have realized, it is literally impossible to put this pain into words, I can't do it, there is no way to describe it. The best I can do are words like excruciating and nearly paralyzing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great, just great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5981980438351501995?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5981980438351501995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/great.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5981980438351501995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5981980438351501995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/great.html' title='Great.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2582511370188619186</id><published>2010-03-29T11:50:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T12:18:00.115-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend Getaway...not what I expected.</title><content type='html'>I left town with my older sister and my niece and headed for Traverse City, I haven't been there in many years so I wanted to go there for myself and check out the town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First of all, the bay is beautiful, nobody can argue with that. It's funny, I had the Saginaw Bay in mind while I was walking towards it, but when I saw the water and the land surrounding it, and no factories around it, I was amazed at how beautiful it was/is. I walked down there early in the morning and the sky was the prettiest colors, I didn't want it to change. Then it was all downhill from there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived in TC Friday night around 11, I wasn't feeling that great but I figured it was the car ride, and elevation and stuff, so I didn't say anything. I woke up in the middle of the night with an excruciating ear ache. I have never had a pain like that in my head/ear before. The whole right side of my face was swollen. I waited outside of Walgreen's at 7 a.m. for them to open, bought a bunch of medicine, (which is very unlike me), I called my mom about what to take. By 8 a.m. the meds took the edge off, but I was still hurting, I couldn't stay in the room any longer so that is when I went down to the bay. I took a lot more medicine, and my sister really wanted to go to a few wineries, so I acted like I was better and went along. Those were actually really nice, we hit up Chateau Chantal, Black star Farms, and Grand Traverse something winery. But after 3 wineries I was done, and I couldn't hide the pain anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amount of medicine I was taking wasn't doing it anymore. But I didn't want to feel like a burden which I most certainly was, and we went downtown TC. Downtown was very cute, and nice, from what I remembered, except I didn't know that everything closes up at 6, that was kind of a bummer, but in my condition, I didn't mind. I spent the rest of the night, shaking, sweating, panicking, in the worst pain imaginable. I went to different medical places, a hospital I think, but we didn't have enough time, we had to be in Bay City by 2 on Sunday. We left Sunday morning at 9, and the only thing open here was the hospital and Covenant, so I spent the afternoon at Covenant. Mind you, I can deal with pain, I'm good at it, I have to be almost dying before I go to a doctor, the pain was that bad. Turns out I have a serious infection in my ear. My ear canal is swollen almost completely shut, and is now moving on to my outer ear and the right side of my face. I cannot eat, barely open my mouth for that matter. The doctor gave me 4 prescription pills, it's only been 1 day so far with medicine and I'm still in horrible pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friend's bridal shower was Sunday at 2, and I was expected to be there for it. I made it there by 2, I tried to stay as long as I could, but I left at 3 and spent the rest of the day in bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Figures, the ONE TIME I get a couple days off from work, this happens. I can't believe this. However, my sister told me we will be going back to TC soon, and then I can go and really enjoy my time there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2582511370188619186?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2582511370188619186/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/weekend-getawaynot-what-i-expected.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2582511370188619186'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2582511370188619186'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/weekend-getawaynot-what-i-expected.html' title='A Weekend Getaway...not what I expected.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8797935337398587696</id><published>2010-03-24T00:08:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T00:25:07.947-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thinking Too Much?</title><content type='html'>I was doing my homework this evening, working on one of my final projects when a eerie feeling came over me. Often times when I have been working on the same thing for hours, my mind will start to wander and I got to thinking about living. Not the usual, "am I truly happy" or  "what is missing in my life" or "death is coming", it was different, and what creeped me out is that I have no idea where it came from. I started thinking about how I was doing the things I was doing. It's really very confusing to put into words. For example, right now, I am typing, my mind knows I'm typing, I'm thinking about the words that will come out, I just wiggled my foot, my elbow hurts. I am a being. You are a being. Everyone else around me is a being. We are simply mortal beings. That's all. It kind of made me feel worthless in a way. So I, just like everyone else, am a being, whose purpose is to live in harmony with my other beings? I don't know. I don't like being confused. It's not a fun feeling. I wish there was one person, who can tell me and explain to me what life is. THERE IT IS, THAT'S MY QUESTION! What is life? This is it? I was born to live how ever many years?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*sigh* I don't know, I should just not worry about it, but then I would be like everyone else who doesn't worry about it, is it even something worth thinking about? Oh never mind, I'll just go back to working on my Child Study. No more mind wandering!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8797935337398587696?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8797935337398587696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/thinking-too-much.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8797935337398587696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8797935337398587696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/thinking-too-much.html' title='Thinking Too Much?'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1857313120670359967</id><published>2010-03-18T10:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T10:24:54.029-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Note To Self</title><content type='html'>Just a little heads up for my next spring break....DO THE DAMN HOMEWORK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a wee bit behind at the moment because I was so certain that not doing the homework over spring break was a good idea lol. Sometimes I question myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I got caught up with &lt;em&gt;last week's&lt;/em&gt; work, now I get to start on the work due for next week. So after 3 nights of getting up at 6 a.m. and going to bed at 3 a.m. I am back on that school schedule we all love so much. I haven't eaten in 3 days just getting everything done, and now I have a sty in my eye which hurts like hell, and for some reason, I am in thee greatest mood today! I woke up singing Whitney Houston and skipping around the house to I'm Every Woman lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's something random...I had change my clothes three times this morning! I spilled toothpaste all over my first shirt, changed it. Started prepping the restaurant..got grease on my shirt and jeans, changed them. Getting ready to leave, spilled tea on my jeans lol, oh man, what an eventful week. I love it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1857313120670359967?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1857313120670359967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/note-to-self.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1857313120670359967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1857313120670359967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/note-to-self.html' title='Note To Self'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3574593758802256669</id><published>2010-03-14T18:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T22:03:57.937-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The End Has Come...</title><content type='html'>The end of spring break is already here, that was unbelievably fast! I swear, it feels like it was just Monday. I will say, I do appreciate the week off, it was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not go anywhere, I really didn't do much of anything, which is what I wanted to do! Other than working, I was able to walk, take naps, watch movies, take relaxing baths, and rock out to all my favorite kinds of music lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What didn't I do....homework. My homework is still piled up the wall in my office since I left school last Thursday, and I don't really care if it sounds selfish, but even though I had a whole week to do it, I'm not doing it until Monday night. My professors are crazy if they expect me to do homework on spring break!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you what I can do without, this damn time change, it screwed me right the hell up. I was so confused all day long, I need that extra hour of sleep! Oh well, at least it's lighter outside when we close now. And with that, I will be leaving here shortly to go to Applebees for a farewell dinner for some friends, then it's back home for another MOVIE!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3574593758802256669?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3574593758802256669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/end-has-come.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3574593758802256669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3574593758802256669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/end-has-come.html' title='The End Has Come...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3607164905374439605</id><published>2010-03-09T14:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T23:56:42.916-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is coming, I can feel it.</title><content type='html'>Today I went on one of my routine walks, but it felt a little different than it had so many times before. There were birds, ducks, and swans out, the snow was melting and the ice was thinning, and yet the ice fishermen are still out there. There was a warming feeling this morning, and it wasn't just the sun beating down on my face. I decided to trek a little further than usual, turning my one hour walk into nearly 2 and a half hours. Lots to look at this time of year, I took it slower. I stopped to watch the swans swim to protect their area and each other. I watched 2 squirrels chasing each other around a tree. I listened to the birds while passing through the woods, it was so beautiful that I had to turn my iPod off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I didn't mind the fellow walkers who were out to soak up the sunlight, in fact I stopped and talked to one older man for a bit. I talked to him for about 3 minutes, and in that 3 minutes, I felt I had just talked to someone important. After we talked about the weather, and the scenery, I walked away thinking about how nice he was and what he has been through in his lifetime, is that weird? He must have been in his upper 70's or early 80's, he has seen most wars, and the struggles and triumphs of our country. He spoke with such wisdom, intelligence and kindness and when I turned back, I watched him slowly walk away, taking caution with each step. What a nice old man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a great walk, it really was, and from now on, the grass, the weeds, the trees won't be dead, life is coming, spring is coming, and in a matter of weeks everything will be turning from brown and browner to green and fresh colors, and I can't wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way back an older couple walked in front of me, and instead of walking faster to pass them, I took my time and admired them as I did the old man. I snapped a quick picture of how cute they were.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446732646227175362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5aue9Tk58I/AAAAAAAAAGI/kKsJEWsAjzg/s320/100_0488.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3607164905374439605?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3607164905374439605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-is-coming-i-can-feel-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3607164905374439605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3607164905374439605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-is-coming-i-can-feel-it.html' title='Spring is coming, I can feel it.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5aue9Tk58I/AAAAAAAAAGI/kKsJEWsAjzg/s72-c/100_0488.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4559798962264209495</id><published>2010-03-07T21:33:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T21:43:00.809-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring Break</title><content type='html'>I'm spending my spring break right here in Bay City, and I'm going to enjoy every minute of no school or homework!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan to go out walking every day, and try to spend most of my time outside. I have to work every day this week at 3:30, and I'm on call before then, so I can't really leave, but I'll be around...probably sleeping in the backyard. And the weather is supposed to be great, hence me being on call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, homemade chocolate covered strawberries and a movie sounds fantastic! I just finished watching The Bodyguard, them older movies crack me up, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4559798962264209495?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4559798962264209495/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4559798962264209495'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4559798962264209495'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring-break.html' title='Spring Break'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2807589581585792255</id><published>2010-02-25T22:36:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T12:57:46.399-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Updated: Friday...</title><content type='html'>I have learned something today, if you go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WalMart&lt;/span&gt; drunk, you will have a better-than-usual shopping experience.Except I'm just trying to figure out why I bought a box of Ritz crackers, a dictionary, a bag of apples, a Whitney Houston CD, socks, and a Phillips screwdriver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I have my uncle's funeral to go to tomorrow morning, I hate going to funerals. I can be the most composed person but as soon as I see people crying, it's over for me. Anyway, I don't really know the distant family that will be there, and the funeral is only from 12-1, but we have to go to the lunch afterwards, even though I'd much rather go home. As much as I love my family, I do, it's just the family functions I don't like. Somehow, there is always the awkwardness and tension in the room, no matter what the occasion. I would rather work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Friday, fish Friday so there is no doubt that we will be busy, so I suppose I shouldn't stay up too late.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;______________________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update on funeral this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt I should get on and write this down, although I don't think I'll ever forget it. Forgive the chop-iness of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been to an Irish-Catholic-Military funeral before, all I have to say is wow. It started at around 12, it started off as a normal Catholic funeral, then they added some Irish traditions, his daughters honored him, his grandchildren and great grandchildren brought up some significant items, books, tools, military belongings, his hat, and more. That was interesting. Then they had an Irish blessing and song for the final Irish farewell. After that, the priest continued and blessed the body with incense, then it changed pace. We were told to sit and two military Honor Guards walked up to the casket, the center doors were opened, as were the entrance doors. Then we heard some yelling and some commands, and just then they gave my uncle a 21 gun salute, followed by the playing of Taps, as the guards folded the flag draped on his casket everyone stood and either saluted or had their hand on their heart. It was extremely emotional, I've never cried that much at a funeral. It was an experience I will never forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2807589581585792255?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2807589581585792255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/friday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2807589581585792255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2807589581585792255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/friday.html' title='Updated: Friday...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1378329131911339542</id><published>2010-02-14T10:18:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T00:29:54.924-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's quiet</title><content type='html'>It's quiet around the house when someone dies. We don't talk as freely as we would. We wash dishes in silence. We don't sing along to the radio. We put on our forced smiles to the customers then go back to being somber. It's a quiet time when someone dies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always felt a little different when someone close passes, I say a little prayer to the god that person believes in, but I have all kinds of thoughts running through my mind. I don't think sitting around and feeling bad about it will help anything, if anything...remember them, talk about them, celebrate the life they had. Death makes me think, this morning I felt sad, scared, but a feeling for wanting to live. Dieing does not scare me, I can't get away from it, it's just how is what I'm afraid of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My (great) uncle passed away last night, he was 95. I've never seen someone so old, so full of life. He still had his drivers license, did almost everything himself, including climbing onto his rooftop to get a stick down. Uncle Pat came to our restaurant every day, he got his coffee, his half of a sandwich, and would sit there for a couple hours amusing us with his stories and his choice of words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patrick Murphy is actually considered a WWII hero, he was a member of Merrill's marauders, and the Mars men to Burma. His picture was on a war bond for being a "hero" killing like 50 something Japanese, being promoted to field captain, and his rank continued to rise. He left the military after being wounded, came home to Michigan, got married had a family and has been in great spirits all of his life. He could tell you every single date, specific details about anything. I remember him telling me things that happened in the 1930's. Things like that amaze me. He is 100% Irish, his grandfather came to America from Ireland to fight in the Civil War!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uncle Pat went to California to stay with one of his daughters for the winter months, he died February 13th. RIP Uncle Pat, you will be missed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1378329131911339542?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1378329131911339542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-quiet.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1378329131911339542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1378329131911339542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/its-quiet.html' title='It&apos;s quiet'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8342365904637551438</id><published>2010-02-09T15:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T15:43:58.467-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick, Sick, Sick...</title><content type='html'>Well, I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. There seems to be some sort of sickness making its way throughout the school as it has a mind of its own and a goal of reaching every student. I've done my best by using hand sanitizer and washing my hands non stop but it didn't seem to do any good, as I have caught the virus. I am sick, sick, sick, sicker than a........see I'm so sick that I can't even come up with something clever and witty to compare it to. I have this non stop disgusting cough that is very unattractive and I feel like crap. I hate getting sick especially from public places, I feel so gross, and nasty..ugh!. And let me tell you, nothing goes well with a nasty phlegm cough than a endless stack of homework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even tell you the last time I was sick, it has been a long while, I don't get sick very often, which is a good thing, and I don't take it for granted. This past Christmas, and earlier winter months, my entire family was sick, one at a time, the virus made it's way through the house to each person EXCEPT ME. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "you're next Liz, you're gonna get sick too" but did I, no. Luckily, it isn't like a flu sick, just more like a cold...I can deal with that, I guess. It gives me a reason to be irritable and cranky towards certain people lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes when I'm sick I like to go out for a walk, but I'm not feelin it this time, especially since we are in the middle of another blizzard, I'll pass. For now, I can finish my homework load up on meds, drink lots of tea and watch movies...now can you please pass me another tissue.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8342365904637551438?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8342365904637551438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/sick-sick-sick.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8342365904637551438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8342365904637551438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/02/sick-sick-sick.html' title='Sick, Sick, Sick...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7895467951264659602</id><published>2010-01-26T21:19:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T22:40:56.822-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You're next, haha I don't think so...</title><content type='html'>I am hoping that these next few years will be great for me, I'm staying optimistic about it. I have a lot of stuff planned out for what I want to do, nothing too drastic or anything, just things I want to accomplish in my life. I was talking with a friend of mine and I was telling him how I need to get a move on things, I'm afraid life will just pass me by and I won't have had that moment to stop and smell the coffee, (I know it's roses but come on, coffee smells better). He told me something that stuck with me, he said that my life has already started, I'm already moving forward and I shouldn't think I'm not doing nothing because I am, I'm in school. I don't have to be in school, but I chose to be, and that alone is an accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This deep thought came about when I was talking with some of my friends. They are in the process of starting a family already and I am not ready for that yet. I want to live life first, have experiences, good and bad. Do things, go to Jamaica, go to a poor country and help and work for a while, have fun, climb a mountain and yell when I get to the top. Sit on a cliff or a beach in cool weather with cloudy skies and watch the waves crash, for hours. Get so drunk I can't remember a thing. But at the same time, I want to be heard, I want to love myself, and be okay with who I am and what I believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just hoping that I will be able to do some of what is on my list. I don't want to be grown wishing I would have done this or that. My parents want to see so much but now they are extremely limited to what they can see now. My dad got out the Army, married my mom, had a kid a year later and had 5 more after that, they had no time for anything. I too want to get married and have children,I do, I always have, just not now or real soon. I don't want kids in the next few years, geez I babysat my nephew today after school, Lord that kid is like birth control himself. I know a lot of people who had their minds set on having experiences like these, then they got pregnant and a baby changes everything, their life is put on hold and everything is about the child. I'm not ready for that yet! And I have no problem admitting it. I have 6 friends getting married in the next year and 3 of them are pregnant now. They talk to me and tell me things like, "You're next", and I just tell them "no way, not right now" I am not going to rush into marriage and family just because they are, as selfish as it sounds, I want "my time" first. How can I jump into marriage and family if I hadn't had my own experiences first, sounds very unprepared. I understand that some people want the whole, get married at 20-have 8 kids-and live like that forever...that's fine, FOR THEM. Not me. Give me my time first, then I will have a family, when I'm ready! Rushing into it sounds so stupid to me, the fact that she is going to get pregnant just because someone else is pregnant, a couple should decide together on whether they will have children or not and when. I can't help but think how different my life will be either way, if I have children, it will be later, so I can spend my young life doing what I always wanted to do, then have a family later and enjoy that life OR I could have no children at all and wouldn't be responsible for another person, other than a significant other. That alone would allow me to travel any time, well career permitting of course. Then again "things happen" and you become pregnant anyway...oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what will happen in the future, so many things could happen and change the course of everything, I guess I'll have to wait, but I'm not waiting too long, there are places to go and things to see!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7895467951264659602?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7895467951264659602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/youre-next-haha-i-don-think-so.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7895467951264659602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7895467951264659602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/youre-next-haha-i-don-think-so.html' title='You&apos;re next, haha I don&apos;t think so...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3758745899611182672</id><published>2010-01-20T20:50:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T21:41:12.579-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Maybe I care too much...</title><content type='html'>I was standing in line at the store today, Wal Mart to be exact, to buy band aids for my dad who nearly cut his finger off but refuses to get stitches. There was only 3 check stands open and the lines were ridiculously long, I was so mad, there are enough employees there..well I won't get into the Wal Mart people. Anyhow, I'm one of the last in line, the 2 women standing in front of me are talking about the disaster in Haiti and it immediately caught my attention, even though I acted like I wasn't listening. I was expecting her to talk about how bad it is, but instead she was on a rant talking about how they can handle it themselves and we need to stay out of it, no money should be sent there, and on and on, OH and she was saying it loud enough on purpose so the rest of us in line could hear her. Well, another 5 minutes went by and I'm in the same damn spot because someone at the register can't figure out how much the frozen peas cost or something, and this lady is getting on my last nerve. I could see that the other people in line were just as frustrated as I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as the line starts moving, she opens her mouth again, she said this, "there is no reason we should send one cent to Haiti, disasters happen all the time, we should be helping the Katrina victims, wait until they are taken care of, and our own poor, then we can help others, they did nothing to help us, I will not donate." And just so you know, I am torn by what happened over there and have donated more than my share, including money and food and water. I watch the coverage of it everyday and have it sent to my phone, it sickens me to see the death toll rising like that. I wasn't going to say anything because I like keeping my opinions about things to myself so I don't have to worry about defending them but I had to speak out. As soon as she stopped talking I just asked her, "excuse me, but have you done anything to help the Katrina victims? Anything since it has happened?" She turned around, with the deer in the headlights look, she said no because she couldn't find any drop off spots. I said to her, "Hurricane Katrina was indeed a disaster, but so is this, do you know how many people have died so far?" She replied, "I haven't kept up with it on the news, so no I don't." "There have been 70,000 recorded deaths, but that isn't even half, they fear it could reach well over 100,000 and it has because there are so many bodies, they are being disposed of in unheard of ways. Over 100,000 people died and you don't care?" She continued with her Katrina speech, and I told her, "if you aren't helping the Katrina victims either then you have no room to talk." She told me in her words, "the U.S. better not bring them black f****ing n***ers, over here or I'll leave." "See ya! It'll be quieter when you're gone, oh, and don't ever say those words to me again." was what came flying out of my mouth, I had no control over it. I'm sorry but if you don't care about what has happened, then fine, but once you start name calling like that, it is completely unacceptable and inappropriate to me, I hate it, really do hate it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mind you this all happened in minutes and when this was over, the rest of the people in line were agreeing with me, and we were much closer to the check out. I really didn't want to stand by her anymore, so I got out of line, got in a new line, waited 12 more minutes and checked out. Mean people do suck! I do whatever I can to keep quiet in public, I don't like people to begin with, but I felt like I had to speak. Whether you agree or disagree with the aid given to Haiti, there is no need for anyone to use language like that and try to make a scene, it's just drama, unnecessary drama.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I care about this thing too much, maybe I should look into my own country more. But I do, I do what I can to always provide help, I help at shelters, I give money, food, blankets, donated stuff the the women's shelter and more. I'm not satisfied with just making sure I have enough to eat everyday, the more I help others, the better I feel, and the feeling never ends either, it always gets better. Oh well, what happens, happens, it's always something when I go to Wal Mart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3758745899611182672?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3758745899611182672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-think-i-care-too-much.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3758745899611182672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3758745899611182672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-think-i-care-too-much.html' title='Maybe I care too much...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4046980550388951618</id><published>2010-01-15T01:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-15T02:11:41.053-05:00</updated><title type='text'>This is NEVER Acceptable!</title><content type='html'>I was talking with my friend and I asked her what was bothering her and she started telling me how she is being treated at work. She isn't being underpaid or anything, but the rude comments and vulgar talk and gestures toward her are really starting to make her mad. This really bothers me, I told her to tell her boss and she said that her boss told her that he didn't see anything and never heard of anything like that happening in the office and that she should just get back to work. I HATE THAT!!! She is clearly bothered by this, this is sexual harassment for cryin' out loud! I told her to start writing it down and writing the time and date that it happened so that she could report them, but no matter what she does, they all tell her that she has the least seniority so she needs to be quiet or she will get fired. Now she wont say anything because she is afraid she will lose her job, and we all know how hard it is to get a new job right now. This sexual harassment can NOT exist, and of course these guys know that they can get away with it, so they just keep doing it. She calls me up in tears, they have not ever physically touched her (yet) so nobody will do anything. I didn't know what else to do so I told her to quit, quit this job and threaten the boss, tell him why, and threaten to call the police and spread the word of the sexual harassment that goes there without any punishment. He did tell her he was "sorry" and that he would talk to "the guys" but it was too late, she found another job, and it pays more. She told her new boss her situation and they are very nice there, so I am very happy for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How can this still be happening? Aren't there laws for this shit?! What is it with these men, why do they act this way, why aren't they being caught and being punished for this? I feel so bad for all women and men who have to or had to deal with any kind of sexual harassment of any kind. They are some really strong people, I know I wouldn't be able to handle it, I can't even sit right I'm so mad about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4046980550388951618?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4046980550388951618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-is-never-acceptable.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4046980550388951618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4046980550388951618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/this-is-never-acceptable.html' title='This is NEVER Acceptable!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4255095568957135765</id><published>2010-01-07T00:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-07T00:33:54.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snorkel...I don't know, just a random title word.</title><content type='html'>I must say, I am having a great winter break, I had a couple nights that were so much fun that I don't remember them, seriously, if pictures hadn't been taken I wouldn't have remembered a thing lol that's when you know you had a good time. Life has been great, I'm liking the new year already. Yesterday my friend told me she wants me to be a part of her wedding, so that's nice, I went snowboarding (didn't turn out so well) but I had fun none-the-less. I started running again, it's hard, but I do it and I feel good afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with the good things, there are bound to be some set backs. Turns out I have something seriously wrong with my left eye, I have always had to wear glasses, no bid deal, but sometimes the inside of my left eye hurts something terrible, it leads to a awful headache, if you have ever had a bad migraine...triple the pain, it's paralyzing. To get rid of this pain, I have to do whatever I can to get somewhere dark, cover up and go to sleep for at least 20 minutes, I'll wake up and it is completely gone. Weird. It has something to do with pressure inside my eye or something. I have to go to a eye surgeon and see what my options are, (no pun intended there).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when I got over my eye situation, I went for a run...bad idea, or maybe in this case it was a good idea. I was running the beach and all of a sudden, a sharp stop-in-my-tracks pain in my left shoulder area near my neck, I couldn't breath, or move my arm. It was about 16 degrees outside so it made my breathing more difficult, and I walked very slowly back home. I had to go to the doctor and she took an x-ray, my collar bone is crooked, (it broke when I was a baby) and the more muscle that builds makes some sort of pressure in that area and causes horrible pain. I already know this, it has happened to me before, about 10 years ago, but the pain went away so it wasn't a bid deal. Now they said it is a big deal because it is on the left side which may cause heart problems so, my options - option A was to have surgery, the Dr. goes in, breaks the collar bone, then sets it again, (um no!),  and option B was to go to physical therapy (no! hate it there, I feel handicapped and I'm not). I told them option C, neither, give me a squeeze ball, tell me what to do and I'll do it. The nurse was already mad at me anyway for giving her a hard time for the x-ray, I thought the joke was funny, she didn't. I had to remove all metal, and she asked if I was pregnant or if there is a chance of it so she could cover my stomach or something, I told her no, she said are you positive and I said yes..get it..positive, apparently that's not funny. I hate going to the doctors so I had to loosen up somehow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, the Red Wings won like one game, which sucks but I love them anyway, and there is a whole lot of football on to keep me busy. I get paid this week, so that's good, and my younger sister and one of my brothers are going out to dinner this week with his new girl to see if we approve, so that will be fun. I talked to some guy about setting up my appointment to go sky diving in the spring, can't wait for that. And my brothers friend from Idaho is trying to set arrangements for us to go there and climb mountains, I've never seen a mountain, so I'm pretty excited for that too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4255095568957135765?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4255095568957135765/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/snorkeli-dont-know-just-random-title.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4255095568957135765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4255095568957135765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/snorkeli-dont-know-just-random-title.html' title='Snorkel...I don&apos;t know, just a random title word.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8423651827847654670</id><published>2010-01-01T23:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-02T00:07:36.980-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Day 2010</title><content type='html'>The most uneventful New Years Day I have ever had. I was up at 7:45 this morning to work at 8. Breakfast was pretty slow this morning, didn't have anyone in here under the age of 60. It really does amaze me how people willingly get up that early and go out to have breakfast. I just don't understand. And after a while, I was getting a headache from all the over sprayed perfume and the cologne that the men dump on themselves, geez. This is why I don't work the morning shift. Not to mention, everyone wants to talk to you in the morning, what's that about? They should be happy enough that I'm out of bed, and looking human at 8 in the morning to be cooking their toast and eggs that they could do at home, why they expect me to carry on a cheerful conversation with them in the morning, I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After many cups of coffee and tea, I was in a much better mood. My brothers friend from Idaho flew in last night to hang out with him, so I told him not to come into work today, I would cover his shift for him, it's new years day anyway, I know, I know, I'm a nice sister lol. We were pretty slow today, not much to do, I cleaned the place from top to bottom, did all the dishes, all day long. Cooked the orders, all 5 of them, and watched football. Not so bad, especially because I got paid for it, yep, I worked 12 hours today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lets see, anything else? After work I did some laundry and scrubbed the floor on my hands and knees, got to start the new year off nice and clean! Now I'm just sitting here, I'm pretty tired, I'll just go to bed. I'm debating on whether or not I should walk tomorrow, I heard the low is supposed to be 13, and the high is 14, I could do without, but I'm sure it will turn out to be an adventure of some kind!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8423651827847654670?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8423651827847654670/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-day-2010.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8423651827847654670'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8423651827847654670'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-day-2010.html' title='New Years Day 2010'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-4682963445153331122</id><published>2009-12-31T15:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-31T15:24:37.351-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year's Eve, what to do</title><content type='html'>I am not doing anything this year for new years eve, I've decided. We decided to be open tomorrow for New Years Day so getting completely wasted would make no sense, seeing as I would have to work all day. It should be slow anyway, which will be nice for once. Lets see, today I'll just finish my shift order pizza and watch TV I suppose, fun right? Yeah, I'm a real thrill seeker lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I did fall down our flight of stairs today, about 16 steps, that was interesting, great way to end the year haha, still hurting from it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll post tomorrow, about how I start my New Year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-4682963445153331122?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/4682963445153331122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-eve-what-to-do.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4682963445153331122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/4682963445153331122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-years-eve-what-to-do.html' title='New Year&apos;s Eve, what to do'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1102011954020217210</id><published>2009-12-26T21:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-26T21:32:39.583-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home for the holidays</title><content type='html'>Christmas is over, all the hype, all the money spent, all the angry customers at the store who ram their carts into the back of your feet, all the crazy customers who run pass you to grab the last game that's on sale, is over. Oh and by the way, I hate when I get hit with the cart, it makes me want to do bad things. All the time I spent wrapping presents, all these paper cuts I acquired and the scratches on my fingers from the stupid broken tape dispenser, and it's all over with now. I spent 3 full days wrapping presents, and in 1 hour the wrapping paper was ripped and all over the living room floor. Why 3 days you might ask, well because usually my dad does all the wrapping but he got that 24 -hour flu thing, so my mom went out and did all the shopping, then she got the virus, then my niece, and I was determined not to get it because they were throwing up all day long. So I decided to do them a favor and wrap all their presents, for me, my sisters, brothers, grand-daughters, and grand-children, plus I had all my own to wrap. Three days, and in one morning it was all torn open in an hour. I have to admit, it was worth it, I love the feeling of the love in our house for the holidays, or just being home. I don't like going places to celebrate, I like being here, at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas morning we did have to slow it down a bit because my niece got the virus, so we had to take it a bit easy, but we still managed to have fun. I didn't ask for anything and yet I got some pretty awesome stuff. I went out this year to get my family the things they really wanted and it was great to see them so happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for being on break, my nephew and I went on an "adventure" a few days ago in the snow. We seen a deer in our yard and it looked injured, so we went outside and saw a lot of blood on the snow wherever it went. Kameran (6 years old) and I set out to find this deer and maybe do something to help it. We followed her tracks along with her blood trail for over a mile. We got close to her, it looked like she was hit by a car, no visible damage, but blood coming out the mouth and rear. She didn't want to move and I didn't want her to keep running, so we backed off a bit, told some DNR who didn't care at all, they didn't want to walk as far as we did through the woods, brush, and snow. When we decided to check up on her a few hours later, she was laying there, she had died, no doubt of internal injuries and loss of blood. My nephew didn't know what to think, he never seen anything like that, or trailed an animal before, he liked it except for the dead deer part. We walked it back home, it was freezing outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying my break from school, we were closed for a week, open today and Sunday, then closed for a while. With all this free time, I hardly know what to do with myself. I sleep in, only till like 9, and have the rest of the day to myself, even though there is a lot of cleaning and organizing that needs to be done, then I finish off the day chillin with my family with a beer or wine, and a movie. This is great, I could get used to this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1102011954020217210?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1102011954020217210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/home-for-holidays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1102011954020217210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1102011954020217210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/home-for-holidays.html' title='Home for the holidays'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1773154888746486598</id><published>2009-12-17T16:40:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-17T20:06:57.594-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Break...Bring It On!!</title><content type='html'>Phew!!! I made it, I made it through another semester, though this one seemed a bit tougher than the rest. Now I can sit back, breathe normal, rest my shoulders, no need to be so tense now. I left school today knowing I don't have to go back until January, great feeling and I am excited and everything but I'm not going to lie, I'm exhausted! I thought today would be easier knowing it was my last day, but it was just as hard getting up and making it through the day. I took my last exam and found out this week that I have passed all my classes! Makes me a very happy person. Now I just sit here and this sigh of relief comes out, I must have sighed at least 10 times today lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What to do first? I think I'll go for a walk, good idea, even though it is freezing outside, that means fewer people outside that I have to talk to, since for some odd reason every old person that walks by me has to say something, I really just want to say, "leave me alone I don't know you" but instead I answer their question and move on. Oh Yeah, winter break..bring it on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1773154888746486598?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1773154888746486598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/winter-breakbring-it-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1773154888746486598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1773154888746486598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/winter-breakbring-it-on.html' title='Winter Break...Bring It On!!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3364216283352301277</id><published>2009-12-10T15:15:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T20:22:22.286-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I DID IT!!</title><content type='html'>I am on cloud 9 right now, wooo!!! This is a great feeling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've done it, I never thought I would be able to, but I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took my final exam today and my professor pulled me aside to tell me I had broken her record, off all her classes I am the only one to have a 100% in the class, my eyes got big and I was speechless. How is this possible I ask, all she said was "You did the work, you earned it." I feel great right now. This is going to make work go by a lot faster that's for sure. I would love nothing more than to go out and celebrate, but I have a exam tomorrow, and a final paper to finish, I don't want to ruin it now. You just wait till next Friday, oh man there will be a celebration for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is clear to me now, all the studying, reading, writing papers, nights of only 2 or 3 hours of sleep PAYS OFF!!! Sure there were times I thought I'd never make it, or never get my work done on time, actually a great new song sums it up, "I thought I'd never make it through, I had no hope to hold on to, I thought I took more than I could take, but I didn't know my own strength" thank you Whitney Houston, anyway, with enough discipline and little sleep, I did it. These are in fact the good days. This may seem as not such a big deal to some, but for me, I will remember this day and how I felt. I will use this as a lesson in life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3364216283352301277?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3364216283352301277/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-did-it.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3364216283352301277'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3364216283352301277'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-did-it.html' title='I DID IT!!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2052376397314915110</id><published>2009-12-08T15:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-08T15:16:15.792-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love Movies</title><content type='html'>With the exception of one more paper to do, NO MORE HOMEWORK!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is going to be a Sandra Bullock night, went and saw The Blind Side, now it's The Proposal, then Premonition, then maybe Miss Congeniality 1 or 2, hmm or The Net, not sure so many great ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2052376397314915110?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2052376397314915110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-love-movies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2052376397314915110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2052376397314915110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-love-movies.html' title='I Love Movies'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7432920394874607486</id><published>2009-12-02T17:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:35:14.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Whooops...</title><content type='html'>I went running today for the first time in a while, like a couple months. It was harder than I thought it was going to be. I had been doing some homework, while working and I just thought it was such a nice day, I would try running to clear my head a little. While the run was a little tough since all the holiday laziness and food, it turned into a jog, then a walk. While I was walking, I saw this man running around the state park acting like he is all that and then some, well let me tell you, he's not. He would run faster when there were ladies around, lol it made me laugh every time I saw him. Well, there are some puddles around the state park and some wet leaves and when he went passed me (again) I was thinking how funny it would be if he slipped while trying to show off. No sooner than I thought that, down he went! There was about 5 people in different directions who saw it, I couldn't help but to laugh, he jumped up like it was planned, then took off again pretending like it never happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I can't laugh too hard because last winter I was dumb enough to go out for a run and while running with my head up, I slipped on a patch of ice and fell right down to the ground, my arms went one way, my legs went another way, I felt like such a dork. Except in my case, I wasn't out to show off, or to run faster when a guy walks by, actually I was hoping nobody else was outside, but of course that was not the case. A nice guy walking by actually helped me up and we were both laughing about it and we went our separate ways and I jogged it back home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It shows that nobody is perfect, and that gravity still works lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7432920394874607486?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7432920394874607486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/whooops.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7432920394874607486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7432920394874607486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/whooops.html' title='Whooops...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-193403775336530853</id><published>2009-12-01T18:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-02T17:38:18.696-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some People...</title><content type='html'>Now, I am not one for name calling or applying labels to people but this afternoon I realized that some people are just plain assholes, they really are, and no matter what you do, no matter how nice you are to them, they are just an asshole. And I don't understand why they have to know what's going on in my life, I don't care what happens in theirs. Mean People Suck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to yell at them to watch out for the Karma, it'll catch up with them, and I wish I could be there to see it. But instead of me being mean back, I read somewhere that, "Karma will be a bigger b**** than I need to be."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I feel better now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-193403775336530853?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/193403775336530853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/some-people.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/193403775336530853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/193403775336530853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/12/some-people.html' title='Some People...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-111592843173576134</id><published>2009-11-12T20:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T21:25:53.302-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Writing is good, even if I'm not good at it.</title><content type='html'>Okay, here's the deal, I love to write...I enjoy it. I can write all day and be satisfied with how that day went, the problem...I'm not very good at it. I blame most of this on my early schooling all the way up to 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always liked to write, I find it very relaxing, and healthy actually, it's a great way to get things off of your chest. Personally I find that if I write in the morning, I feel better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem that I have, that I am not afraid to admit is that I am not good at it. I know that in my writings it doesn't bother me much but when I have to do a paper for school, which is about every other day, I find it challenging. Growing up we lived in Monroe, Michigan which is south of Detroit. We went to Airport Community Schools and let me tell you, they have come a long way. When I was in school, it was more important to get in what 2+2 was and getting a basic knowledge of the United States, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; all. From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; all the way through 9&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade I NEVER had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;grammar&lt;/span&gt; class, composition class, nothing like that. I had a English class but it was half English and half Science. When I moved to Bay City around 2002-2003&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;, I joined John Glenn High School in 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, I was so far behind in English it wasn't even funny, and in case you didn't know they don't teach &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;grammar&lt;/span&gt; and basic English in 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;, or 12&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade. When I came to Delta my first semester I was told to go right into English 111, I really wish I would have been put in beginners so I would learn the basics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that when I write I don't have the style and the technique that professionals do, in fact I spend more time switching sentences, words, and commas around than the information. I actually had a teacher tell me once that I should just stop writing then because it would be too hard for me to catch up and my writing would never get any better. I am not kidding, she was my 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade English teacher who was completely obsessed with teaching us about the Puritans, my then boyfriend told me not to believe her and to this day I am so glad that I listened to him. I always thought that our teachers were there to push us forward, to be that little voice that says go ahead you can do it, but as far as she was concerned, I should stop writing for myself all together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't ever think I would ever do anything professional or anything like that, but that doesn't keep me from writing all the time. There are actually some things that happened to me or that I witnessed and I wouldn't have remembered it if I wouldn't have written it down and in the most detail that I can. I'm not one of those people who keep a pad and pencil by my bed to record my dreams because I don't have any. I know everybody has dreams but I don't really sleep so it is extremely rare for me to ever remember a dream, but everything else I like to write about. I'm really not very good with poetry, I'd like to learn or to take a basic poetry class if that even existed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that I still have a ways to go until I would even consider myself a good writer, but until then I'll keep my pens handy and my pencils sharpened, you never know what is going to happen next. Well enough of this, there is a very good looking guy in the dining room that I'm going to talk too ;) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;. I'm out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-111592843173576134?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/111592843173576134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/11/writing-is-good-even-if-im-not-good-at.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/111592843173576134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/111592843173576134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/11/writing-is-good-even-if-im-not-good-at.html' title='Writing is good, even if I&apos;m not good at it.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8462796680939766467</id><published>2009-10-25T21:03:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T21:17:59.448-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been 4 months...</title><content type='html'>This is totally random but the weirdest thing happened last night. I had a dream, a dream that I could remember. I have diagnosed insomnia, but I do not take pills, I refuse to, so therefore I do not sleep, I have a very hard time falling asleep, and staying asleep. Anyway, with this dilemma, I very rarely every remember a dream, I have gone a whole month not remembering any kind of dream at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, last night I went to bed around 1:30, fell asleep around 2:30 and got up at 6. When I woke up this morning, I remembered a dream, and it was so vivid, I can remember everything, this NEVER happens. What was the dream about? Well, that is what I think is so weird. Last night I had my first dream about my dead cat. I know, I know, lame right...I'm not a "cat person" I just got really attached to him, then he died in June. It's been like 4 months since Scrappy died, and I'm over it, but I will still miss him of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to know these things, why was my dream centered around him? Why did I have a dream about him? Why is it the first dream that I have remembered in weeks? Just when everything is back to normal, I have a dream that Scrappy comes running out of the field and into my lap, and I am screaming to everyone that he is back that he didn't die, but he was all better. I know it was him because of his big blue eyes, and the half of a tail, but he wasn't sick, he had all his teeth, no tumor, his big fluffy hair. He never left my side and I spent the whole day with him, (this is all my dream of course). I was shouting at everyone to come look how good he looked and how he was back. Then I went to get him a drink and I came back and he was walking back into the field of tall grasses and weeds, I yelled for him, chased him, but he disappeared. There was more to it than that but that is the gist of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was saddened when I first thought of it this morning, but kind of happy too. I just thought it was weird that it had happened. I haven't told anyone, I doubt they would care anyway, but it feels good to get it out on here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8462796680939766467?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8462796680939766467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-been-4-months.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8462796680939766467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8462796680939766467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/10/its-been-4-months.html' title='It&apos;s been 4 months...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1658808933423089045</id><published>2009-09-25T00:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T00:24:15.826-04:00</updated><title type='text'>US vs India in dating customs</title><content type='html'>It has been a very interesting week as far as learning in school. The courses that I am taking now are all great, I just don't think it was a very good idea to put them all together. Currently I am enrolled in Literary Analysis, Sociology, and Philosophy, all great subjects, all tie into one another. Every time I learn something in one class, I learn about it in another and it get confusing. However, it seems like I have learned more this week alone than I have in a long time, maybe it's because I'm finally paying attention, I don't know lol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been reading Plato and Socrates and Aristotle like crazy, studying religion, society, socialization, critical thinking, and so much more. This week we got into depth on Internet Dating. It might seem like a light topic but I assure you it is not. Along with this came learning about traditional values, and the traditional ways of dating in the US and in other countries as well. The country that interested me the most was India. True, reading about the dating and courtship here in the US is nice but, let us be honest, we all know the boy fancys the girl, brings flowers and chocolate to her house (nothing wrong with that), and is able to make his intentions known, then they "court" in the house. Boring. When we started reading up on other dating styles in other countries, that is when it got interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think, if I heard correctly, and again this is not positive, but in India if women were caught "dating" or seeing a man secretly, the consequences were deadly. Here, that is completely normal to go out and date someone, preferably someone single. But in India, I read it was about family, and the family puts you together, women don't have a choice. I wish I could have learned more about the dating customs in India, maybe i'll just look it up.The whole culture of India started to interest me, then before I knew it, class was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a really good way to end the week, I still have class tomorrow, but only for an hour and I leave for the north. I'm feelin' good, got my homework done, got my packing done, I'm about to watch the movie, How Stella Got Her Groove Back, got me some good tasting wine, I'm all set.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1658808933423089045?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1658808933423089045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/09/us-vs-india-in-dating-customs.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1658808933423089045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1658808933423089045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/09/us-vs-india-in-dating-customs.html' title='US vs India in dating customs'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1920069850748429566</id><published>2009-09-10T09:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-10T09:19:33.514-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Joy of Writing</title><content type='html'>I was doing some homework for my Literary Analysis class and I was reading a Joy to Reading and Writing handbook and I was reading quotes from professional writers on what writing is like. True, it can be fun, but it can be extremely difficult.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways my favorite quote came from Edna Ferber who said, "writing is a combination of ditch-digging, mountain-climbing, treadmill, and childbirth." It can be fun, exhilarating, tough, rough, and so horrible you never want to do it again, but that is what we love about it I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1920069850748429566?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1920069850748429566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/09/joy-of-writing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1920069850748429566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1920069850748429566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/09/joy-of-writing.html' title='The Joy of Writing'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3296339043270756570</id><published>2009-08-31T20:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T20:30:46.565-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All Good</title><content type='html'>AHH forget that last post...life isn't so bad after all, everything happens for a reason, i guess. I took advice from "someone" who said, we always want what we don't have, but never wants what is in reach. Well, today is a new day, it was a beautiful Monday, things went smoothly at Delta today, I have a job, friends and family who care, I'll be alright. Not to mention I had a fabulous lunch at Olive Garden with my sisters after school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a song that I love (one of many), called ALWAYS LOOK ON THE BRIGHT SIDE OF LIFE, it's from Monty Python I think, it makes me feel good. In fact I decided today that I am going to try and plan a skydiving trip within the next month, I'm pretty excited. There is a movie I bought a while ago called Waiting to Exhale, it's just about life, a group of girls going through tough times, relationships, jobs and what not, just waiting for everything to be right, waiting for the chance to exhale, and that is what I am doing, waiting to exhale, but until then, I'm going to live life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3296339043270756570?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3296339043270756570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-all-good.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3296339043270756570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3296339043270756570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/its-all-good.html' title='It&apos;s All Good'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5863526908224596214</id><published>2009-08-28T15:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T15:54:14.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>???</title><content type='html'>What is my Purpose?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why am I even alive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5863526908224596214?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5863526908224596214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5863526908224596214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5863526908224596214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/blog-post.html' title='???'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-6241628224932734141</id><published>2009-08-14T11:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T11:43:27.391-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What the heck?? Where did the summer go?</title><content type='html'>Man oh man, it seems like I just got out of school and waiting for the weather to be decent, and now, it's time for me to start getting ready for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where the time went, when I think about it, I really didn't get anything accomplished this summer, probably because I was waiting on the stupid weather, for cryin' out loud, it was either too friggin hot, or raining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides blaming the weather, this might be the first summer where I have worked this much, it's too exhausting to do anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did get to go on a few mini vacations which were nice, I just wish I wasn't so tied down throughout the summer. I basically get up and start work, then work all day, and now it's time for school to start. To be honest with you, I'm not ready for school to start. Not one bit. I have to go to school next week and buy my books, then it's all downhill from there. Then I will be spending most of my time at school, then coming home to work, then homework after we close, this is going to suck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until then, I will keep working, I guess it would be easier if some of the customers weren't so damn unappreciative, but I suppose I'm used to it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-6241628224932734141?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/6241628224932734141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-heck-where-did-summer-go.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6241628224932734141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/6241628224932734141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/what-heck-where-did-summer-go.html' title='What the heck?? Where did the summer go?'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2244204079550217734</id><published>2009-08-04T20:40:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T09:36:46.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back To Reality</title><content type='html'>Well, I suppose it's about time I get back on here. I just got back from a small vacation about 2 hours ago, so I'm still trying to get back to reality again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to Mackinaw again, my sister and I on Saturday and Sunday, then on Monday my parents along with 2 aunts, 1 uncle, and a cousin arrived and we all went over to the island to stay overnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find there is much to do up north and I love it there, it isn't about all the stores and shops with all the same shirts and sweatshirts that say Mackinac Island on them, it's the history I'm interested in....okay okay, and the sweets. This time I did some things I have never done before, I toured the U.S. Coast Guard Ship, went to the Mackinaw version of River of Time, checked out the library and the bookstore, hiked for miles, and lot of sleeping (hey it's my vacation too).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was so great to be able to grab my book, my cup of tea, and go down by the shore to read, nobody to bother me, except for a very large man in a really small speedo, and a very attractive younger guy laying out next to me, other than that I felt like I had all the time in the world to read and listen to the water, nobody calling my phone, no text messages, nobody yelling at me to wait on somebody or to cook this order or to make that ice cream cone, just me, my drink, my book, and the water ( and the good looking guy next to me ha ha).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I got to the island, I was pretty busy at the hotel getting everything set, but then I was right back in town, walking along the shores and hiking the hills, including the arch rock. At night, we went to dinner, then while everyone was in the room, I went out to walk along the water, I went to Starbucks and got me some coffee or some tea and just chilled out. However, girls will be girls, and we got a little crazy and hyper so my sister, my cousin and I decided to go to the exercise room and burn off some of that energy. Well after 18 flights of stairs on the stair master, 5 miles on the bike, and 2 miles on the treadmill, we were ready for bed at 2 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is now the day after, I am super tired, sun burnt, and more sore than I should be. I didn't hardly buy anything, I don't need anymore Mackinaw clothes, however I did almost splurge...a lot...to spontaneously by a painting. It was a watercolor painting. When I found it, I was turning a corner, it caught my eye and as corny as this sounds, I think I gasped for air. That is when I know it's a good painting, when it catches me like that. I didn't have enough money, or even the space to put it up but I want it so bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now its back to work, I hate how fast a vacation can end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2244204079550217734?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2244204079550217734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-to-reality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2244204079550217734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2244204079550217734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/08/back-to-reality.html' title='Back To Reality'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2468234201301098413</id><published>2009-06-18T18:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T18:32:55.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>He's Gone</title><content type='html'>This is so hard. How am I supposed to "deal with this" and move on? It is so hard to just keep going through the day with a straight face. I have a sick feeling in my stomach, like, did I do enough? Should I have given them the money to do all the surgerys on him? Why didn't I catch it sooner?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night after work, I was the only one home and I was feeling a little bit better, but I went outside and walked passed his food dish and seriously started balling. How could I let this happen? It's every time we pull in the driveway, every time I walk outside, whenever I am bored I play with him. There is a big part taken away from my life and I hate it. Scrappy was more than just a cat, he was a job, and it was my job to take care of him, he was very sick and taking care of him was like a full time job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to train myself not to do things like, fill the food dish, or get out the milk, or get the paper towel out to clean up the drool from his mouth. I am not yet ready to clean up his things, I just can't do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I miss him, very much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2468234201301098413?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2468234201301098413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-is-so-hard.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2468234201301098413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2468234201301098413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/this-is-so-hard.html' title='He&apos;s Gone'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2807301258211095466</id><published>2009-06-16T20:29:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T12:50:25.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It's A Sad Day</title><content type='html'>My cat Scappy passed away today. I don't even know what to do with myself. Many tears.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2807301258211095466?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2807301258211095466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sad-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2807301258211095466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2807301258211095466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/its-sad-day.html' title='It&apos;s A Sad Day'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-2679936265899829304</id><published>2009-06-10T12:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T00:22:27.880-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mackinac</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAV_oHRnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8Z67hcCBE-U/s1600-h/134.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345913873034069618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAV_oHRnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8Z67hcCBE-U/s320/134.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAVj21LII/AAAAAAAAAFQ/zJ_MqN-a9SQ/s1600-h/102_0103.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345913865579605122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAVj21LII/AAAAAAAAAFQ/zJ_MqN-a9SQ/s320/102_0103.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me in front to show how big the hotel really is&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAVWQkN3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/4z_Rg8nmjTY/s1600-h/102_0100.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5345913861929449330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAVWQkN3I/AAAAAAAAAFI/4z_Rg8nmjTY/s320/102_0100.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well we are back from our little vacation. We left early Monday morning at 7 and headed up to Mackinac Island where we would be staying at the Grand Hotel, only until Tuesday. The weather Monday was quite unfavorable, but we made due, seeing as how there is nothing we could do about it. We were soaked, I have never been so wet from rain in my life, and it was cold. Anyway, the ferry ride to the island was a bit rough, but we had fun, leave it to us to see who could stand the longest without falling with the boat rocking how it was. Once we got to the island we headed right for the hotel, our room wouldn't be ready for at least another 2 or 3 hours so we had some time to spare. If you didn't know, the Grand Hotel is pretty big so there was much to do and see. The hotel is very beautiful and extremely historic. Lunch at the hotel was absolutely amazing, and when we finished our room was ready, and I was ready for a nap (hey, it's my vacation too). When nap time was over it was around 3 and dinner wasn't until 7:30 so I had some exploring/relaxing to do. I walked all over the hotel and went up to the Cupola Bar which is the highest point of the hotel, the view is amazing, after that I got bored and headed to town.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mackinac Island in the summer is amazing, there are people working there from over 66 countries, and hundreds of people, young and old alike are all coming to shop and check out the beautiful scenery. It was too wet for me to rent a bike, so I walked it, I walked to town, went in a few shops, bought me some Starbucks at least twice and kept on exploring. After a while, I was cold and wet again and went in a cute coffee shop on the water (then again, what isn't by the water) and read in there a while.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Grand Hotel has a policy and after 6 all guests have to be dressed in their finest or you will be sent back to your room. So, with that said, I was in the hotel at 5:30 and was able to relax in the (amazing) room until getting ready for dinner. We sat together, myself, my mom, sister, sister, niece, and aunt. There was a great view of the water and the bridge and we sat, laughing and drinking wine. Dinner came, which wasn't easy with one bathroom and 6 girls, we were sat to eat a breathtaking 5 course meal. After dinner, we walked the hotel with everyone else, roamed the famous porch, and had some drinks. I experienced first hand the expense of drinks of a 5 star hotel, so one beer stayed one beer, I couldn't afford anymore. As I went to my room, the sound of the water put me right to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Woke up for breakfast at 8:30 and after breakfast got our luggage out and checked out of the hotel at 11. We said our goodbyes to our friends who work there and headed to town to buy stuff. We left the island at 3 and shopped in Mackinaw City for a couple hours, ate and came home. Arrived last night around 10:30 and I still haven't unpacked. I hate coming home after a vacation, 2 days was not long enough. I enjoy going there because I can be by myself, I've been there so many times that I have found the quiet, scenic places where I can be alone, no people bugging me, no technology, just me and the water is all I need.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-2679936265899829304?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/2679936265899829304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/mackinac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2679936265899829304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/2679936265899829304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/06/mackinac.html' title='Mackinac'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SjCAV_oHRnI/AAAAAAAAAFY/8Z67hcCBE-U/s72-c/134.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3240592627607004533</id><published>2009-05-27T10:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T12:41:19.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Memorial Day Buzz</title><content type='html'>Woke up early for a quick run, in hopes of beating all the other runners that day. It was cold, cool, I like it that way. As I run, a million things go through my mind, and I only focus on getting back home in time to open. It was a busy weekend; non-stop orders, non-stop talking, non-stop waiting on people. We get a lot of new people this time of year so patience truly is a virtue. Never once does it calm down, the water is always running, the fryer is always loud with fried foods cooking, people are always talking, laughing, babies crying and screaming. All I can do is keep going, keep cooking, keep serving ice cream. There was a time or two, I would stand back and watch everything. It amazes me how so many things can go on in the same building. I stop to watch the food cook, the ice cream being made, dishes being done, stock being put away, and customers in the dining room enjoying their meal. Then, I have to get back on track and continue on for the final 9 hours of the weekend. As I work, all I hear is the buzz...the buzz of the 5 ice cream machines up front...the buzz of the refrigerator...the buzz of the refrigeration table...the buzz of the blender...the buzz of the walk-in coolers...the buzz of people talking, so much talking that it's hard to capture a certain conversation. The buzz of the whole building, it makes my ears hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it's over. The weekend that is. My feet are killing me, and I am so happy for the rain. The travelers are gone, and the regulars return. Arthur is here for his coffee and toast, Nancy is here to scowl at everyone who walks in the door, Casey is here to have his breakfast and will come back later for dinner or ice cream with a hug and a compliment, "The Whole Pot" is here, (if you haven't figured it out, she drinks at least a whole pot of coffee when she is here) I don't even know her real name. Jim is here to give us another rare bottle of wine that he said his wife would have wanted us to have. The old ladies wearing too much lipstick and perfume are here with their red and purple hats (I don't understand that one bit, I hope I never choose to join that group.) Scrooge is here, (the grumpy man in the corner). He comes every single day for over a year and still is not nice...at all. And then there is Kenny, he has some sort of muscular disease, and causes him to shake but he always makes us laugh with his jokes about him being our coffee pour-er. These people, and all the other regulars, are here every day, some are like family, others I wish would just disappear. The good thing is that I get a day off after the weekend, seeing as how tomorrow is my birthday, I'm pretty excited to have it off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3240592627607004533?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3240592627607004533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day-buzz.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3240592627607004533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3240592627607004533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/memorial-day-buzz.html' title='Memorial Day Buzz'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1639243861873764276</id><published>2009-05-22T00:32:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-22T00:34:04.680-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here We Go...</title><content type='html'>Everyone's holiday weekends are my nightmares...this ought to be fun (not).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1639243861873764276?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1639243861873764276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/here-we-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1639243861873764276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1639243861873764276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/here-we-go.html' title='Here We Go...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-863770638115134678</id><published>2009-05-15T16:44:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T12:35:41.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My walks...</title><content type='html'>I took a few pictures with my phone of my walk this morning...just below is my favorite tree. The others pictures taken in the State Park. I just love nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGi3HXQI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VS6mTa-2Tro/s1600-h/0515091153.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156541429439746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGi3HXQI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VS6mTa-2Tro/s320/0515091153.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGe6iycI/AAAAAAAAAD4/omQiJ4x0OBY/s1600-h/0515091153a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156540370078146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGe6iycI/AAAAAAAAAD4/omQiJ4x0OBY/s320/0515091153a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGaCauMI/AAAAAAAAADw/Bz8P9SU4-lo/s1600-h/0515091156a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156539060926658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGaCauMI/AAAAAAAAADw/Bz8P9SU4-lo/s320/0515091156a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V9E2q1nI/AAAAAAAAADo/gUahEehowTo/s1600-h/0515091158.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156378755683954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 329px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 256px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V9E2q1nI/AAAAAAAAADo/gUahEehowTo/s320/0515091158.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8xbLexI/AAAAAAAAADg/pNl5UXktaQY/s1600-h/0515091159.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156373540109074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8xbLexI/AAAAAAAAADg/pNl5UXktaQY/s320/0515091159.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Boardwalk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8yHQ0AI/AAAAAAAAADY/T-FZXy6oCmA/s1600-h/0515091208.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156373725007874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8yHQ0AI/AAAAAAAAADY/T-FZXy6oCmA/s320/0515091208.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V88hl68I/AAAAAAAAADQ/lH7-CARPbLc/s1600-h/0515091209.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156376519797698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V88hl68I/AAAAAAAAADQ/lH7-CARPbLc/s320/0515091209.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8iNIXLI/AAAAAAAAADI/xys7MupXzAM/s1600-h/0515091209a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156369454652594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3V8iNIXLI/AAAAAAAAADI/xys7MupXzAM/s320/0515091209a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqTvUcsI/AAAAAAAAADA/Oad1bOtEIJ4/s1600-h/0515091211b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156056333873858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqTvUcsI/AAAAAAAAADA/Oad1bOtEIJ4/s320/0515091211b.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down by the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqRHIijI/AAAAAAAAAC4/NDIH1bxEa5w/s1600-h/0515091218.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156055628450354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqRHIijI/AAAAAAAAAC4/NDIH1bxEa5w/s320/0515091218.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqHhR0ZI/AAAAAAAAACw/SfTmrFlHM14/s1600-h/0515091229.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156053053755794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqHhR0ZI/AAAAAAAAACw/SfTmrFlHM14/s320/0515091229.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wild flowers are always pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqISwn8I/AAAAAAAAACo/knJPfUQnnsA/s1600-h/0515091231a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156053261295554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VqISwn8I/AAAAAAAAACo/knJPfUQnnsA/s320/0515091231a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VpxYqAQI/AAAAAAAAACg/RZF9dR4Lm7I/s1600-h/0515091233.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336156047112012034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VpxYqAQI/AAAAAAAAACg/RZF9dR4Lm7I/s320/0515091233.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trails, trails, trails&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VW38CgJI/AAAAAAAAACY/1-A9-mqj8ws/s1600-h/0515091233a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336155722453516434" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VW38CgJI/AAAAAAAAACY/1-A9-mqj8ws/s320/0515091233a.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWjhR0II/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZyQdunB0f4w/s1600-h/0515091238.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336155716972564610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWjhR0II/AAAAAAAAACQ/ZyQdunB0f4w/s320/0515091238.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beach is that way&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWUBGl3I/AAAAAAAAACA/DY6_C8LVdjw/s1600-h/0515091244.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336155712811079538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWUBGl3I/AAAAAAAAACA/DY6_C8LVdjw/s320/0515091244.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Umm the stairway to....???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWd7tvGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/RYsjNW85rdU/s1600-h/cp1_0515091150.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336155715472833634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 164px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3VWd7tvGI/AAAAAAAAAB4/RYsjNW85rdU/s320/cp1_0515091150.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Swan babies...I'm sure they have a name but I don't feel like searching for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I walk these trails everyday, and it always seems as if everyday I see something that I missed the day before. I am no photographer, so it's hard to try and capture what it's like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-863770638115134678?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/863770638115134678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-walks.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/863770638115134678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/863770638115134678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/my-walks.html' title='My walks...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Sg3WGi3HXQI/AAAAAAAAAEA/VS6mTa-2Tro/s72-c/0515091153.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5670736452442060982</id><published>2009-05-15T00:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T00:06:45.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy *Sigh*</title><content type='html'>Today was a good day. A really good day. The sun was out, it was beautiful. My cat had her kittens, my other cat can finally eat, the Red Wings won and will go on to round 3, my brother will get a house, my sister passed her FAA exam and is now an Airman, and tomorrow is payday. A good day indeed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5670736452442060982?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5670736452442060982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-sigh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5670736452442060982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5670736452442060982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-sigh.html' title='Happy *Sigh*'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-1823971546384669904</id><published>2009-05-10T00:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T00:30:49.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Once Upon A Time...</title><content type='html'>I wish I could read more. I like reading, actually I like how I feel when I am reading. This is such a bad time of year for us (business wise) because we are so busy (wait.. that's a good thing right?). Anyways, we just bought my mom her mothers day present, it's a very nice swing that we got on sale for $200. In a somewhat selfish way I thought to myself, "wow, this swing is comfy, I could do some good readin' on this swing." Oh well. I just finished one of my Elvis books that I started, and I finished reading a bunch of zines (thank you Denise), I don't really know what to read next. My friend has just finished a book called A Year of Magical Thinking (or something like that) I don't know who wrote it, but I guess that's next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just hired, or started, 4 new girls for serving ice cream and our waitress came back, and I'm so excited. It's sort of a pain having to train a new person let alone 4 but once trained, that means I'm not working all day, and will get some "me" time. I got some good "me" time yesterday when I got lost on a trail, would have been nice to had a book since I walked for over 2 hours. The thing is, when I intensely listen to music, or when I read, I get these feelings and I am deeply connected with them. When I read I think about the characters as if I were them in the story, I think about the story, I am totally oblivious to what is going on around me when I am reading a good book. It's just.......great.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-1823971546384669904?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/1823971546384669904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/once-upon-time.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1823971546384669904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/1823971546384669904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/05/once-upon-time.html' title='Once Upon A Time...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8121294564644286990</id><published>2009-04-29T20:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T23:09:58.117-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want It...</title><content type='html'>I saw the most amazing, beautiful watercolor painting today..I loved it and I wanted it so bad. However, I looked to the side and saw what I didn't want to see, NOT FOR SALE...darn, that's pretty much how my whole day went. I think I like watercolor paintings more than the rest, I don't know why. Actually I've been thinking about that picture all day and I thought it would help to get it out of me by putting it on here. Nobody else wanted it, or wanted to see it, or even want me to have a painting. I love paintings and pictures and I cannot wait to have as many as I want. Actually, my family has been asking me what I want for my birthday (which is May 28 by the way) and I told them I want a watercolor painting but they said I'd have to ask someone else...whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Welp, seeing as how, I have 3 exams tomorrow and a paper to write, I better get going. Tomorrow is the last day till fall!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8121294564644286990?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8121294564644286990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-want-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8121294564644286990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8121294564644286990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-want-it.html' title='I Want It...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8839327713298230425</id><published>2009-04-27T12:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:57:01.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Like These Equations</title><content type='html'>walking the trails for 3 hours + sun - work = AMAZING&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8839327713298230425?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8839327713298230425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-like-these-equations.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8839327713298230425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8839327713298230425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-like-these-equations.html' title='I Like These Equations'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-7149558661164461123</id><published>2009-04-26T00:39:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T12:59:35.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain, Rain....I Like It</title><content type='html'>Well, it's been raining all day, from sun up to sun down, and I have to admit..I like it. I like the rain, I enjoy it very much, not only because we are slow on rainy days and I get to "relax", but I just find rain relaxing. And it makes me laugh watching people in the rain. Why are they afraid of it?! It's like they are running for their lives...haha I laugh every time. To me, rain is no big deal, if you need to go outside, go outside, you don't have to run to dodge the raindrops like they are drops of fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, nothing is better than going to sleep listening to the rain..ahh I love it. I have to have the window open though. I have an issue with that. I have to keep the window open or the fan on..I need something. I absolutely cannot sleep with it being hot in the room NO NO NO it makes my head feel like 75 pounds when I wake up, not good. It doesn't have to be cold, just decent, like 60 degrees..that's good. Anyways (i love how easily i get distracted) rain helps me to sleep, it's so peaceful, it's nature. I like to think about it as I'm laying there. Rain...rain...if it wasn't for rain, our flowers wouldn't grow, the plants would die, garden would die, the trees would never bud, and there would never be earthworms all over the sidewalks and driveways lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain is what keeps it all together, you can't have life without it. I drives me nuts because people don't really think of it that way, they are mad when it rains because it ruins their plans, but in the middle of the summer they are mad because we haven't had rain in 2 months..make up your mind. Welp, it's late, and I gotta go to bed, I reckon we are going to be super busy like we always are on Sunday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-7149558661164461123?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/7149558661164461123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/rain-raini-like-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7149558661164461123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/7149558661164461123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/rain-raini-like-it.html' title='Rain, Rain....I Like It'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5220304431098639622</id><published>2009-04-23T23:11:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T23:45:21.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What Can I Say..I Love That Darn Cat</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SfEyqSiVukI/AAAAAAAAABY/9WLba2TNVGg/s1600-h/scrappy2.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328095536267770434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SfEyqSiVukI/AAAAAAAAABY/9WLba2TNVGg/s320/scrappy2.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a horrible feeling tonight, Scrappy is going to die very soon and I don't know what to do. Scrappy is a stray cat, someone dropped him off hear a year ago and he has been with us ever since. He is a Burman cat...i think. Beautiful. When I found him, he was so skinny that it made me sick to look at him. He stayed at my house (outside) and I fed him good, by this past winter he had a nice big belly plus all his hair. Not now. I don't know what to do, he cannot eat anything and he is getting so skinny. He tries and he makes a choking noise but I don't know what it is, at first I thought it was a hairball or something but it isn't. I looked down his throat myself and I don't see anything but he cant swallow, and throws up a lot. Scrappy is a stray, and people have offered to take him home and get him registered but they never do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never had to take care of an animal by taking it to the vet. So I have been calling around, and nobody wants to help me. They say that they will have a look but they want Scrappy registered and paid for, and have all these tests done. I told them that all I wanted was them to see why he can't eat and they simply wont. The other places just want me to take him to the pound. I can't do that. They said if he is that sick they will just take him and put him down, like that's what I want to hear. And they said that if I want him back I will have to pay for him, and register him. Am I being too greedy? I have all these emotions, I'm mad because this is happening and that nobody will help me, I'm sad because if this continues I know he will die, I'm guilty, like I'm not doing enough. Maybe I should just spend the money, one guy wants like $300 from me to check him all up and give him shots and stuff. I'm not sure how much anywhere else, they wouldn't tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may sound dumb but, how is life going to be without Scrappy? He is the most human friendly cat and will make you pet him for hours and is always on your lap, just wanting to be with you. He has been there for a year..it might not sound like much, but it is. Who am I going to give the good scraps to? (hence his name). He has always been there, to greet you whether you are in a good mood or not. What will I do in the morning when I get up? I won't be able to go and give him his food, water, and milk, and pet him for an hour, then run and come home and play with him some more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scrappy is going to die soon, but until then, I'm going to do everything I can to keep him here. I don't know what to do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5220304431098639622?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5220304431098639622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-can-i-sayi-love-that-darn-cat.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5220304431098639622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5220304431098639622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-can-i-sayi-love-that-darn-cat.html' title='What Can I Say..I Love That Darn Cat'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/SfEyqSiVukI/AAAAAAAAABY/9WLba2TNVGg/s72-c/scrappy2.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3822493316450696674</id><published>2009-04-21T22:49:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T23:52:30.802-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You Might Want To Stand Back For This</title><content type='html'>Alright, I'm just going to come out and say it, I'm Pissed. That's it, I'm Pissed. I am so pissed off, that pissed is the only word I can think of, I mean, I could throw a couple other words in there but I think you got the idea by now. UGH!! I literally can't even remember the last time I was this mad. I'm so mad I'm shaking, trembling. Why? Why do I let things bother me? I don't, I never have, so why this? It's because I act like things don't bother me, I let people see that I can just deal with it, blow it off, but I guess I keep it all inside. I shouldn't even be on here, I'm so mad I want to take this computer and shove it right (use your imagination here). This is nothing, I'm much more calmed down than I was when I left school, when some dumb ass blond who spends too much time in the tanner was yelling at her boyfriend for not calling her enough, and spilled her hot coffee on my leg. Never said sorry. Her boyfriend actually cleaned my leg, and apologized for her stupidity. It all started there. After that, and the swelling redness of my leg, I found out that I have an 8 page essay due (single spaced), a 3 page essay, and 2 papers due all on the same day...Thursday, yep that's like a day away. Then what? Oh, I get to come home and work, perfect what a great way to end the day, getting yelled at for serving people what they want. Well today I threw the attitude right back at them. There was still some light left at 8 when we closed and I went for a run in the state park. I got about a half a mile into the state park and I started crying, yeah, I haven't cried in like 5 years. Then what happened? It starts raining, how appropriate, some dumb girl crouched over at the state park crying in the rain. A very nice (good looking) guy offered to take me home, I told him I live across the street, it was no big deal. I sat there, in the rain, for 25 minutes, crying, punching, shaking. I ran home, changed, and went to Uno's with my brother. Didn't help much, now I'm down to less than 2 days away from all this work, my leg is killing me, I'm freezing from being in the cold rain, and I'm PISSED. I walk into my room (which i share with my sister) and she is bitching at me about something not fitting..uhh not my problem, then I'm getting bitched at because I'm not doing everyone else's work around the house, I'm not working the extra hours, I didn't pick up his shift, i only worked 41 hours last week, I have voice mails on my phone of friends complaining that I'm "blowing them off", there is this guy who is pissed at me because I told him I wouldn't go out with him. I'm getting yelled at because I won't do this favor and that favor. And to top it all off, the icing on the cake if you will, I was told no to a project that I love to do every year, that we can't help the Christmas needy families this year because it will cost too much money...WHAT?! too much money? It is really just an excuse to say, "no I just don't want to do this anymore." These families count on people like me and you to give their children a decent Christmas, last year all the boys wanted was underwear, socks, and a coat..seriously. And you're going to tell me no? I'll find a way. Who knew this day would be so eventful, got any more bad news that you want to tell me, go ahead, lay it all on me now. Well this has to end, I need to go like, meditate or something, maybe I'll wake up and it will be a better day..I hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3822493316450696674?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3822493316450696674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-might-want-to-stand-back-for-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3822493316450696674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3822493316450696674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/you-might-want-to-stand-back-for-this.html' title='You Might Want To Stand Back For This'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-5192071351716020378</id><published>2009-04-20T20:56:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:29:44.668-04:00</updated><title type='text'>"Don't Worry So Much About Life, Nobody Gets Out Alive Anyways"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Se0aNfOzEaI/AAAAAAAAABQ/c42XCco3IHo/s1600-h/800px-Gravestone_poem_arp.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326942753273352610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Se0aNfOzEaI/AAAAAAAAABQ/c42XCco3IHo/s320/800px-Gravestone_poem_arp.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dang..I think I like this poem. It got me thinking about death again. I should probably stop because people think I'm weird. I don't think talking about death is weird at all, I feel better when I talk about it. It's like people don't want to even bring it up, I don't know why. It's going to happen!! To all of us!! Sooner or later! There is Nothing we can do about it. What scares me is how I'm going to die, other than that, I have no other worries. I would like to know like a week in advance if I could. If I had that opportunity I would want to go somewhere, I'm not talkin about Paris or go to Australia, I want to go somewhere somewhat local, within the state probably. Maybe Mackinac, I love it there, I think it's the water. I just sit on the beach or in the chairs and just relax by the water, it is truly relaxing (besides the sunburns that I usually acquire). My friends all want a huge party, and everyone you ever knew around when you die, having a big sob fest when you die...SO NOT ME! Hopefully by the time I die, I have lived a (somewhat) long life. If not, maybe I will have found that 'special someone' that man that makes everything good. If I'm married, I would want him with me, that's all, and probably my best friend. I don't want it (my death) to be a big deal. Just a quiet time, in a beautiful place with my best friend.  HOWEVER, I highly doubt I will have this chance, it will probably happen in a hospital or somewhere else, I don't know. In fact, none of this will probably ever happen but it's worth a shot.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thinking about death though, gives me a weird feeling, almost a sick feeling, a scared feeling, but also a feeling of appreciation for what I do have now, and what is around me. Thoughts of an afterlife don't comfort me much, because as far as I'm concerned it's just comfort. How can you go somewhere when you die..you're dead..DEAD..not temporarily unconscious, dead. Well, I'm going to stop now, all this death talk is making me hungry. (wait, that sounded weird). I mean, I'm hungry..okay I'm done now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-5192071351716020378?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/5192071351716020378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-worry-so-much-about-life-nobody.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5192071351716020378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/5192071351716020378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/dont-worry-so-much-about-life-nobody.html' title='&quot;Don&apos;t Worry So Much About Life, Nobody Gets Out Alive Anyways&quot;'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/Se0aNfOzEaI/AAAAAAAAABQ/c42XCco3IHo/s72-c/800px-Gravestone_poem_arp.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-3776450460769915628</id><published>2009-04-17T11:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T12:25:46.765-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is it...</title><content type='html'>I got out of class early and I went to the library to get some work done. While I was sitting, an overwhelming feeling of peace came over me. I look around me, I see students everywhere frantically cramming information into their minds in hopes of getting a good grade on their exams. People texting their thumbs off. I see people laughing with each other, and some just want to be left alone. I packed my things and left the library, it was a beautiful day so I thought I would take advantage of it. I walked the nature trails of Delta, even with the amount of homework needed to be completed and the final exams to be taken, I felt incredibly at ease, like there was nothing to do but walk this trail in the sun. While walking fertility of the earth surrounded me. The trees were all green, with buds getting ready to open as if they need somebody's permission. Little flowers popping out of the ground, the sun - making all of this possible, is shining down on all, I begin to sweat. I hear birds singing all around me, and right in front of me is a robin, sitting on a nest with another robin standing on the edge - no doubt there were eggs waiting to be hatched. I stop, and slowly turn around to see everything that surrounded me. I'm smiling, and I have a feeling in my stomach, in my chest - an indescribable feeling, like butterflies almost. Just then, I see a dead squirrel, how did this happen I wonder, why did this happen? It's almost time for my next class, I say, heading back towards the building. Walking back I realize my mortality. I stop in the middle of the trail, a runner goes passed me, I think about it. One day I said, one day this will all end for me, I will not be able to walk these trails, feel these feelings. Soon enough, school will end, I will go home, work the rest of the day and get up and do the same thing all over again. I wish I can take these feelings with me, I think to myself, walking back to school, but I will leave them here. I get to the parking lot, I turn back to the trail, my eyes say goodbye. It has gone from peaceful quietness with birds singing all around me, to students honking and racing to get the best parking spot. I think to myself, This is it...this is all I have, this is now, and someday I will die, and there will be no more. So I will live for Now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-3776450460769915628?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/3776450460769915628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-it.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3776450460769915628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/3776450460769915628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-it.html' title='This is it...'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8571002967794568672</id><published>2009-04-15T13:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T21:38:22.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is Age? People, It's Just a Number.</title><content type='html'>I guess I don't really understand why people freak out about age. What's the big deal? Is it that they are scared, mad, oblivious to how fast time really goes? People tell me that I don't realize because Im only 20 (21 in a month). Why can't I understand it? Ive lived twenty years, and yes it does suprise the hell out of me when another year goes by, but why get mad about it? Getting mad won't make you any younger, it won't slow time, your only wasting the time you have left. This year my mom turns sixty and she is so upset by it. I look at it completely different than she does, I can only hope that I live that long. She really don't have much to worry about, she has been happily married for 35 years, has 6 kids, 3 (about to be 8) grandkids, what's the big deal? Anyways, birthdays are only one slice of this pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People in general categorize things, events, life, by age. For the younger kids and for elders I can understand, but why in between. Now days, I can't even hang out with someone older than me without having to explain to my friends and family why, and I'm not talking about someone who is 2 years older than me. I remember my senior year of high school, a year I didn't do much, and I would often help a teacher that I had for 2 years before. We worked on school projects, and lots of community service. Eventually, we became friends, what's the big deal? She is 45 and Im 20...so what? Once, my friends asked what I did the day before, I told them I went to the store with Diane to get all that we needed for the Christmas Needy Familes and we were there for 7 hours, then we got dinner, and worked on the project. They looked at me like I was growing a third eye. "What?" they said, with a wierd look on their face, "what's wrong with that?" I replied, "you're hanging out with the teacher? what sins did you commit in your past life?" I told them that I went because I wanted to, teachers are people too. Even my family acts weird about it, I have another friend who is 37, he's a cop...so what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like, it doesn't matter what your similarities are these days, you're supposed to be with your age group which to me, sounds rediculous. If I find someone who has the same intrests as me, and is fun, and has a somewhat decent sense of humor..you better believe I'm going to hang out with them, it doesn't matter if they are 17 or 67 (assuming that 67-year-olds like to jog/run or ride bikes).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems to me like there are so many other things in life to worry about than age. There is a line out of a movie that I like, coming from P.S. I Love You, "we're so arrogant arn't we? So afraid of age, we do everything we can to prevent it. We don't realize what a privilage it is to grow old with someone, someone who doesn't drive you to commit murder or doesn't humiliate you beyond repair. It's sweet." I love that quote, and I agree.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8571002967794568672?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8571002967794568672/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-is-age-people-its-just-number.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8571002967794568672'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8571002967794568672'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-is-age-people-its-just-number.html' title='What is Age? People, It&apos;s Just a Number.'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6515733291135556873.post-8389298056908788224</id><published>2009-02-04T00:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T01:02:16.591-05:00</updated><title type='text'>AARGGH!</title><content type='html'>Well this is my very first blog im no longer what my friends call a blog virgin except i dont feel all warm and trembley..whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its been a long day, wake up, clean up, feed Scrappy, be at school at 8, come home at 4, feed Scrappy, take a walk, do homework, eat, watch Lakeview Terrace, and finish up some homework. Not bad. I got done a little early tonight so I thought I would check this blog website out, I like it. It will be a good way for me to express how I feel without saying it to someone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well now that its 1 a.m. I should get to bed seeing as how I have to get up for school again. Tomorrow, well technically today will be a better day, just one class then im home the rest of the day to work and do homework.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6515733291135556873-8389298056908788224?l=liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/feeds/8389298056908788224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/02/aarggh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8389298056908788224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6515733291135556873/posts/default/8389298056908788224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://liz-meanpeoplesuck.blogspot.com/2009/02/aarggh.html' title='AARGGH!'/><author><name>Liz</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06626695472461119356</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_QdqV20oLZHE/S5cnmgS5FYI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qe7IxzogOD0/S220/0BADSIGN.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
